The Edge of Light and Dark
by LMSharp
Summary: Aithne Morrigan awoke in her underwear when the Sith began firing on the Endar Spire. KotOR1, LSF Revan, will go AU at the end. Improved and reposted!
1. An Explosive Entrance

**Disclaimer: The brilliance of this plot and these characters is not mine, unfortunately.**

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><p>Chapter One<p>

Aithne Morrigan awoke in her underwear when the Sith began firing on the _Endar Spire_. She stood up, automatically checking for exits. She was in a sparsely furnished soldier's dormitory. It had been her dorm for two months now, ever since she'd been recruited on Deralia. But no more. Aithne could tell from the rock of the ship and the firing she heard distantly in the hallways that she'd have to jump ship, and fast.

She heard the whoosh as the door to the dorm opened. Aithne spun, ready to attack, but the tall man with the regulation haircut and blue eyes who had just run in was dressed in a Republic uniform.

"We've been ambushed by a Sith battle fleet!" he shouted in her face. Aithne blinked at him. "The Endar Spire is under attack! Hurry up! We don't have much time!" The sheer force of his adrenaline and fear nearly bowled Aithne over.

"No, duh, we're under attack," Aithne said irritably. "Otherwise I'd still be asleep." She crossed quickly to the footlocker that held her supplies, and began rooting through it, deciding what to take with her. "Who in the galaxy are you?"

"I'm Trask Ulgo, an ensign with the Republic Fleet," the man replied with an impatient toss of his head. "I'm your bunkmate here on the _Endar Spire_. We work opposite shifts; I guess that's why you haven't seen me before." The man looked at her in frustration. "Now hurry up! We have to find Bastila! We have to make sure she makes it off the ship alive."

Aithne got the sense that Bastila was someone of importance, but all she had seen since boarding the bucket were a few navigators. She'd advised them where to land, instructed them on galactic conditions, that sort of thing. Still, as the _Spire _bucked and rolled, Aithne knew she was now playing a different game. She nodded grimly at the blonde man, pulling on her cargoes , long-sleeved shirt and vest "Bastila's that uppity Jedi the navigation officer keeps complaining about, right?"

Trask looked incredulously at her. "Bastila is the commanding officer on the _Endar Spire_." He looked awkward for a second. "Well, not an officer, really. But she's the one in charge of this mission. One of our primary duties is to guarantee her safety in the event of enemy attack!" He glared at Aithne, daring her to walk away. "You swore an oath, just like everyone else on this mission. Now it's time to make good on that oath!"

Aithne stared levelly at him, belting a simple leather belt around her waist. She'd been offered some of the fancy stuff for stealth, but she'd never been good at sneaking around. She couldn't really believe Trask had the nerve to order her to fulfill her oath. She'd been press-ganged into Republic service. She had been visiting her homeworld, minding her own business, when her assets had been frozen and she'd been taken into custody. There, the Republic had basically told her that she could join up or starve. At the time, Aithne had considered telling them to go jump off a cliff and going rogue as a smuggler or some such, but she also had been rather bored, and eventually she had agreed. This war with the Sith was getting tedious, and to be sure Aithne didn't want the interfering bullies to win. Still, she had no real loyalty to the Republic, either, and if Trask didn't know that she was a firaxa. Soldiers gossiped like domestic servants.

To her satisfaction he dropped his gaze. "I heard what everyone is saying about you;" he said, in a quieter tone. "You've explored the farthest reaches of the galaxy, you've visited planets I've never even heard of. People with your skills and abilities are hard to find; it's no wonder the Republic recruited you for this mission. But now's the time to prove yourself!"

Aithne knew he was flattering her. But she also knew that the soldier wanted someone at his side in this battle, and it spoke volumes for him that he'd come to warn her. He'd known she would be sleeping, and now he'd have to go twice the distance to escape. And she had never been able to resist a challenge… Still.

Trask must have seen the hesitation in her face, for he added gently, "I know you're a scout and not a soldier, but Bastila needs all troops at her side during this attack!"

Aithne caved. Bastila needed her. She needed to get off the ship. And she'd need a friend on the planet below once she did. Trask would serve, but they had to save Bastila before he'd be of any help at all. He was the noble, idealistic, young soldier-type. "Ok," she acquiesced. "Let's go help Bastila!"

Aithne, now fully suited up, did a few stretches, trying to limber up. She'd been asleep five minutes ago, and now apparently she was going to wade through a Sith ship invasion to rescue some uppity Jedi with this Trask Ulgo she'd met three minutes ago. She didn't know how he fought. She suppressed a snort. For all she knew he might be a total amateur. He looked young. She reflected for a moment how firefights never seemed to wait until you were ready for them. Then she grabbed the large leather bag she'd come aboard ship with, empty now, and looked at her weapons. An ordinary blaster and a short sword. She reached for the blaster at first, and then changed her mind. Stuffing the blaster in her pack with a few medpacs at the bottom of her footlocker, she wrapped her hand around the battered hilt of her short sword. A blaster might make for a more antiseptic kill, but Aithne had always preferred melee fighting to ranged weapons. It felt better, somehow, and anyway, going into an unknown situation she had always found it best to play to her strengths.

Aithne turned back to Trask and smiled predatorily. She was gratified to see him shy away slightly. Good. She hadn't lost it living easy on the _Spire_ these past few months.

"Ok," he said. "Let's move out! We should stick together: there's a better chance of survival that way. I think the door locked behind me because of the attack, but I've got the override codes. I should probably unlock it."

Aithne blinked, and raised an eyebrow. Trask was suddenly treating her as if she was in charge. _Last time I checked I was just an explorer brought on to advise_, she thought, _but if this is what he needs to survive_… "Well feel free," she said, using sarcasm as a shield for her surprise. Trask quickly unlocked the door.

He turned to her expectantly. "Now that the door's open, you had better take the lead."

Aithne had thought he'd looked young. She realized he was maybe only twenty one or twenty two. _He's just a kid. No wonder he's so scared. _She nodded, suddenly frightened for him, and ran down the corridor.

She was halted by a buzzing from her communicator. She brought it up and saw Commander Onasi. She'd seen him once or twice while up briefing the navigators.

"This is Carth Onasi," he was saying. A general broadcast, then. "The Sith are threatening to overrun our position! We can't hold out long against their firepower! All hands to the bridge!"

The line went dead. Trask's face had gone white. "That was Carth Onasi-"

"I know," Aithne cut him off.

"He's one of the Republic's best pilots, though," Trask said. Fear laced his words like a drug. "He's seen more combat than the rest of the _Endar Spire_'s crew put together! If he says things are bad…"

Aithne pushed away her compassion for a more convenient hour. Right now, compassion would get them killed. "Save it, Ulgo," she advised. "Let's move out." Before she turned away, she was satisfied to see his expression harden in renewed confidence.

Jogging forward, Aithne found a locked door. It was a minor annoyance. Aithne threw the hair out of her face. The ship bucking made picking the lock a little more difficult than normal, but Aithne had considerable pride in her security skill. She was in before too many seconds had passed.

"C'mon, Ulgo!" she called over her shoulder, then stopped. Two uniformed Sith blocked their way. Aithne took a deep breath, tensing for the fight, evaluating their stances.

Trask reddened as he caught sight of the Sith. "These must be the advance boarding party," he called to Aithne. Then, drawing his blaster, he plunged in. "For the Republic!" he shouted.

Aithne could tell the kid had never been in a firefight. He plunged in blindly, without looking to see what his partner would do, how she'd move, or even evaluating his opponents. Aithne sighed. This greenie would get himself killed. They'd shot him in the shoulder already, and even now one was gashing his face. She'd planned to incapacitate the two Sith, but they had already half killed her partner. Bounding forward, she felled the two Sith with a few brief, brutal strokes. In the same lithe movement she drew a medpac out of her pack and injected her companion with it.

"Never," she growled at him, "rush into a firefight without evaluating your opponents. You're no good to Bastila or the Republic dead. Our objective is to aid Bastila, not kill every Sith that crosses our path."

Trask nodded dazedly, climbing to his feet. Blood streamed from the cut above his eyebrow. Aithne eyed it. The injection she'd given him would help the blood congeal faster. He'd live. "Yes, ma'am." He looked at her in wonder. "You saved my life."

"I'm no good to Bastila or the Republic dead, either," Aithne informed him, kneeling down and searching the Sith and the vicinity for supplies they could use later. "I'll need your help to get out of here."

Trask nodded again. "Still," he said. "I've got a feeling that won't be our last battle with the Sith. Good thing we have medpacs to heal our wounds. Thank you."

Aithne nodded wordlessly, and led Trask on toward the Bridge. Trask was right. They fought two more duos of Sith in the next room. True to his word, Trask evaluated the fights, with no more recklessness on his part. Aithne had to admit that when he kept his head, Trask was a fair marksman. Everywhere they passed bodies of soldiers in uniforms just like Trask's, and a few bodies in Sith armor. The slaughter of the Republic soldiers sickened Aithne, and she felt dirty every time she left bodies behind like they had.

"Take that, Sith scum!" said Trask before they passed into the room directly adjoining the bridge.

"Don't say that!" snapped Aithne as the Sith fell at her feet. "Never forget," she hissed, "that these are people. Sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, mothers, and fathers. They may be deluded. Some of them may be evil. But you have it in you to be just as bad. Never forget," she finished, "that you all share the common heritage of all sentient species."

She saw Trask's eyes widen. He looked at her bloody sword and then at her angry expression. He looked down at the Sith she'd just killed, and his face softened. Then wordlessly, he nodded, and gestured for her to proceed. Aithne opened the battered door with a hiss.

A woman shrieked in pain and lightsabers hummed. Tension crackled as the two Jedi fought. Trask swore, holding out an unnecessary arm to keep Aithne back.

"It's a Dark Jedi! This fight is too much for us! We better stay back. All we'd do is get in the way."

Aithne bit her lip but said nothing. The Dark Jedi man appeared to have the advantage. He used brutal strokes, pressing the woman back, and laughed at the fear in her eyes. Aithne's stomach churned at the cruelty of it, but then she noticed the set of the woman's jaw and how she had shifted her weight to her back foot, as if preparing….yes. Aithne was unsurprised when the Dark Jedi went down, cloven nearly in half by the woman's counter attack. She sprang forward to identify herself and beg for assistance to the bridge and escape pods, but just then the ship gave a particularly violent toss. Aithne was knocked to her feet, and she heard the woman scream as a piece of paneling came loose with a jerk and impaled her.

Trask looked shocked. "That was one of the Jedi accompanying Bastila," he relayed. He cursed under his breath. "We could have used her help."

But they had no time to lament the woman's passing any further, for two Sith stepped forward to take the Dark Jedi's place. Aithne gritted her teeth. This was the outside of enough. Reaching to her belt, she lobbed a frag grenade at the men. They went down in the ensuing explosion.

"C'mon," she growled at the young man. She stopped briefly twice to gather more supplies, then said to Trask, "You ready? We're at the Bridge…"

Trask nodded grimly.

The next few minutes passed in a blur. Aithne vaguely remembered fighting several Sith as the ship buckled underneath her feet. The close confines of the Bridge stifled her, but a few minutes later she stood panting, bloodied, with three dead Sith at her feet. Trask looked around briefly.

"Bastila's not here on the bridge-they must have retreated to the escape pods! We better head that way too! The Sith want Bastila alive but once she's off the ship there's nothing stopping them from blasting the _Endar Spire_ to galactic dust."

Aithne looked at him. She wiped the blades of the two swords she now carried on a Sith corpse. "Well, come on, then."

The duo circled the Bridge, and opened the following door. Suddenly icy cold gripped Aithne's heart. An awful premonition swept over her. A hum sprung up behind the opposite door.

"There's something behind there, "Trask said. The door opened. Aithne felt herself unexpectedly shoved to one side as Trask sprang past her, blocking her from the Dark Jedi's reach.

"Another Dark Jedi!" he cried back to her. "I'll try to hold him off. You get to the escape pods! Go!"

And with that Ensign Trask Ulgo ran bodily into the Dark Jedi, punching the door lock behind him as he went.

Aithne ran to the starboard wing of the _Spire_, filled with sorrow and anger. Trask didn't have a chance. Whatever had possessed him to take on the Jedi alone? He had expressed awareness of how utterly beyond him they were as foes, and for some incomprehensible reason had decided to sacrifice himself for her, a stranger.

But again, she was allowed no time for grief. Buzzing came from her wrist again. She lifted it and saw Commander Onasi say, "This is Carth Onasi on your personal communicator. I'm tracking your position through the _Endar Spire_'s life support systems. Bastila's escape pod is away- you're the last surviving crew member of the _Endar Spire_! I can't wait for you much longer; you have to get to the escape pods!"

With Carth's pronouncement, a strange, cool feeling took over Aithne, much like the one she'd had when she'd first woken up on the distressed ship. With a burst of speed, Aithne sprang upon the Sith at the end of the hall. He was dead before he knew what had hit him. Aithne hit the ground at a run, dashing for the escape pods. All she knew was that at the end of the day, she would survive to fight again.

She felt no regret as she demolished the two Sith in the next room. Later, she'd wonder about her animalistic fury, wonder where her morals had gone. But at the moment, Aithne was in full survival mode. She wanted to live. They wanted to kill her. The Sith had to die. And it was as simple as that. In theory.

A buzzing on her communicator slowed her rampage. "Be careful!" the commander warned. "There's a whole squad of Sith Troopers on the other side of that door! You need to find some way to thin their numbers. You could reprogram the damaged assault droid to help you, if you have enough repair parts. Or you could use computer spikes to slice into the terminal and use the _Endar Spire_'s security systems against the Sith."

Aithne was forced to slow down long enough to recognize the commander's wisdom. Pausing to pick some more credits off the ground, Aithne opened a trunk, retrieved a few repair parts, and strode over to the droid. Repair was also a skill she excelled at. In a few seconds she had repaired the droid. She stood to one side calmly as the droid butchered the Sith next door. She picked up a beautiful vibroblade off the dead Sith captain, and strode through to the escape pods, humming with adrenaline.

"You made it just in time!" said a sudden voice, startling Aithne into defense mode. Then she relaxed. It was Commander Onasi. He'd been waiting for her. Well, she thought, he had said he would. "There's only one active escape pod left. Come on, we can hide out on the planet below!"

Aithne looked at the man. "Just the two of us?" She wondered what in the galaxy they would do there, what planet it was, if she'd visited before. She wondered if the Sith would look for them, and how they'd escape if they did. And she wondered what use Commander Onasi would be, or if he'd be useful at all. She wished Trask had made it…

Commander Onasi apparently misinterpreted her desire for more information as suspicion. He grabbed her bloody hand and looked her in the eye. "I'm a soldier of the Republic, like you. We're the last two crew members left on the _Endar Spire_. Bastila's escape pod is already gone, so there's no reason for us to stick around here and get shot at by the Sith. Now come on. There will be time for questions later!"

His amber eyes pleaded with her, and instinctively, Aithne knew she could, and would trust this man. She extracted her hand from his gently, and beckoned for him to join her in the last escape pod of the _Endar Spire_.

The inside of the escape pod was cramped and ill-lit. The seats were hard. Carth pulled the door shut behind them, engaging the air lock. Strapping herself in, Aithne pushed the button to eject them towards the planet below.

Her stomach dropped. She could hear the air wrestling violently with the escape pod. The temperature climbed steadily as they burned a path through the atmosphere. The pod began to shake, and Aithne wondered if it would crumple. Carth took her hand, and she saw his face as terrified as her own. They weren't at the mercy of Sith or Republic enemies now, or any mortal creature whatever, and it was dreadful. The forces of nature impassively determined the fate of herself and the other last survivor of the _Endar Spire_.

A sudden jolt shook Aithne to her very bones, and she felt a sharp pain in her left side and a dull one in her head. She was barely sensible of the lights going out before she knew no more.

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><p><strong>AN: So, hi. I loved my story, but being a perfectionist, I thought it could be much, much better. So I'm reposting it. I am methodically going through every chapter, making my main character less obnoxious, correcting minor errors, and obliterating large portions of unnecessary plot. I may also ditch some canon-character conversations in favor of ones I like better. Some, not all. Many will still make an appearance. **

**If you're new to this story, welcome! And fear not! You may still play an active part in improving my writing style. This whole story is undergoing repairs. Leave a review giving me feedback. **

**If you liked this story before, and are angry at me for taking it down, I'M SORRY, I just couldn't be satisfied. This is a writer's playground, isn't it? Who knows, maybe you'll like the new-and-improved The Edge of Light and Dark better, too! **

**Bear with me, and may the Force be with you,**

**LMSharp**


	2. The One that Shouldn't Have Survived

**Disclaimer: Sadly, this universe and plotline are not owed to my brilliance.**

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><p>Chapter Two: CARTH POV<p>

Carth groaned at the impact. He knew he'd have several bruises tomorrow. But pavement and dented escape pod surrounded…what was her name again? She'd have a lot worse than that. Unbuckling himself gingerly, Carth forced himself into motion. He had no time to inventory his injuries. Crashing escape pods drew a lot of notice, and he knew the Sith would be here before long, looking for Bastila. He unbuckled his fellow survivor. She was unconscious. He opened the air lock and forced open the door, which, fortunately, had been located on his side of the pod. Reaching out, he dragged the woman forward. _By the Force, she's heavy, _he thought. It didn't really surprise him. The woman had fine bones, but thinness didn't take off from sheer height. She looked to be nearly as tall as a man.

Groaning, he dragged her dead weight out of the pod and into the street. Smoke surrounded him, and Carth could see their trail blazing across the night sky. Carth knew that they'd been fortunate to land on the night side of the planet. Just after sunset, by the feeling. Looking around, Carth saw a metropolis, well-to-do, but with the indefinable feeling of being neglected. Suddenly, he saw an alien skulking around the corner. The Ithorian looked at the crashed escape pod with misgiving, and more than a little curiosity. Then he shook his head, and slunk off into the shadows. Carth followed. Aliens that looked as guilty as this one usually knew good places to hide. Adjusting the unconscious, wounded woman in his arms, he stumbled after wearily.

A good ten minutes later, he lost the alien in some apartment complex. Checking around, Carth saw it was mostly occupied by refugees and criminals hiding out. Perfect. He and this unknown woman were refugees, and depending on whether or not the Sith had any presence on this planet, they might be criminals. Carth took out one of his last security spikes, and broke into a door that looked unloved. The mailbox outside was coated with dust. The door was slow to open. It hadn't been used in some time. Carth knew he'd chosen correctly.

The furniture was coated with dust just like the mailbox outside. Some of it had been overturned, like the last inmates of the apartment had left in a hurry. The single window and the glass door out to the tiny balcony were so coated with grime that no one could see in or out. Carth knew that in the middle of the night, amongst refugees who didn't want to be found almost as much as he didn't, no one would discover that the once empty apartment was now occupied.

Carth carried the woman over to one of the couple of beds in the room, and dusted off the bed with one hand as best he could. He really hoped she didn't have allergies. He placed her down on the bed gently, and knelt to examine her.

She was covered in pavement and blood. Carth opened one of his few medpacs. He went over to the fresher and tested the tap. Good. He thought that the water and electricity might be run for the block, and now he knew for certain. He wet a cloth, and crossed back over to the woman. In deft, gentle movements he wiped her face and hands. She had a pretty commendable bump on her head, probably dealt in the crash. Carth determined that to be what kept her unconscious. As he cleaned her up some, Carth noted some of her features.

She was rather pretty, he realized in surprise. He judged her to be in her late twenties, or perhaps as much as thirty. She was pale, obviously. She'd lost some blood. But Carth guessed that she'd probably be pale anyway. A few freckles ranged across her nose and cheeks over high cheekbones. Her long eyelashes fluttered a bit as the cloth wiped her forehead, but she did not wake. Carth brushed her hair back from her cheeks. It had been pulled into a ponytail, but most of it had escaped. It was difficult to determine the color in the lighting, and amongst the dirt and blood, but even in the darkness Carth could determine it was very thick and curly.

As he finished wiping her face and hands, Carth hesitated. He didn't want to take advantage or invade the girl's privacy, but she might have other injuries that needed tending. Gingerly, he felt her arms and legs and sides. He was surprised to note that most of the blood on her belonged to others. Sith, he supposed. This was a fighter, then. He noted several bruises like his own, a few abrasions on the hands, a shallow slice on her side, and a major scrape on the opposite shoulder, most likely from the crash. Unzipping her combat jacket just enough for it to be loose, he rolled it back over her shoulder. He treated it expertly with antibacterial and bandaged it. Rolling the combat jacket up over her side, he also bandaged her side. Carth had dealt with wounds often enough in the past that he forced himself to concentrate on the injuries, not the body beneath them. Zipping up her combat jacket and adjusting her clothing, Carth wrested the pack from the woman's right hand. As he had suspected, he found a spare set of clothing in there, along with a blaster and a few medpacs. He took the extra clothes and placed them at the foot of her bed so she could change when she woke.

Only then did Carth treat his own injuries. He was bruised pretty much all over, and a Sith had gotten in a shallow slice close to his knee, but all in all he was in much better shape than his companion. And he, like she, had managed to bring his pack with him. He washed up in the fresher, taking the time to clean it so that if he or his companion used it in the future it would actually do some good, and dressed in his own spare clothes, leaving the ones he'd been wearing in the fresher to air out. Then he returned to the main room, dusted off the other bed a good deal better than he'd been able to dust the one his companion lay on while he carried her, and sat down.

Retrieving his datapad from his pack, he began searching through the service records of the crew of the _Endar Spire_ to find which was his companion. He set the datapad to present the files to him in order of experience. It made sense that only one of Bastila's most experienced soldiers could have survived the ambush. But he did not find the woman on the other bed among them. He did not find her among the soldiers at all. Not until he had reached the advisory crew-members did he find her, and he noted in shock that she was the very newest recruit.

_Aithne Morrigan. _He looked across, and the picture in the file matched that of the woman on the bed. Twenty-eight. Apparently she'd been a scout. Carth's eyebrows rose, though, when he saw the marksmanship and combat scores she'd been issued after training. Apparently the woman was a killing machine. She had outscored ninety-eight percent of Republic recruits in the galaxy in her handling of melee weapons, and eighty percent of them in marksmanship. Carth browsed in the psychological profile he'd had access to as a superior officer on the _Spire_. Testing had revealed leadership ability, as well as a masterful grasp of tactics, but these skills had been lying mostly dormant, according to the profiler. There was a note that said the subject displayed unsettling tendencies towards independence and rebellion. The intelligence scores were high. Very high. The woman was a borderline genius, but she had responded poorly to being ordered about and tended to be impulsive. Carth felt himself frowning. It just got more and more worrisome. He read that Morrigan had been forced into the service, and had apparently stayed out of boredom, not loyalty to the Republic. She was from Deralia, originally. She had no living relatives, and no particular friends. Then his eyebrows flew up. A single, highlighted line revealed that Bastila had specifically requested this woman's transfer aboard the _Endar Spire_. There was no reason given. There was no link or reference to another file. Carth was immediately suspicious. Something stank here.

No friends. No family. No reason, really, to fight for the Republic, and apparently both the capacity and the psychological disposition to survive outside of the Fleet, even if they _had_ seized her assets. The woman Aithne Morrigan's file read like a puzzle. Extraordinarily talented, brilliant, with very little self control or predictability and no noted ties to any place or any person. Just reading it made Carth nervous. And the Jedi wanted her for some reason. It all led to only one conclusion. Aithne Morrigan was dangerous. Very dangerous. He probably couldn't trust her. But he needed her help.

Carth didn't know what Aithne Morrigan would do when she woke up, so he figured he'd at least find out where she'd be doing it. Silently, Carth slipped out of the apartment.

A few hours after dawn, Carth returned, exhausted. The Sith were already there, and in force. They hadn't wasted any time quarantining the planet or taking it over to search for _Endar Spire_ survivors, Bastila among them. He had seen Bastila board the escape pod on the _Spire_, and already people were talking of a pod that had crashed in the Undercity of this planet. A few times Carth had had to duck out of sight. He made a note to get clothes that weren't Republic issue as soon as he'd laid hold on some credits.

Taris. Carth swore as he lay down. Taris, of all places! Carth knew that as soon as Aithne Morrigan awoke, he was in for a rough time.

Carth woke up the next evening, and immediately glanced over at Aithne Morrigan. Her cry had awoken him. She thrashed about, whimpering. She hunched over, as if in pain. She sobbed in her sleep.

Carth turned over, wincing. Every soldier who had seen combat had the nightmares. Aithne's fear and sorrow brought back his own ghosts all too clearly. The smell of a planet burning. The sound of ships firing. The screams of civilians running for cover, frantically searching for their friends and families. And…and… But Carth couldn't think of it. He clenched his jaw and rose. He washed his face with cold water, trying to cleanse his conscience of the guilt. He should have seen it coming.

Gazing across the dim, dreary apartment, Carth wondered what he would do should Aithne Morrigan not awaken. He judged that she'd been unconscious for over twenty-four hours now. Carth wondered if she would wake up. Should he take her to a doctor? Carth toyed with the idea, but then rejected it. Aithne had obviously been in a fight, and he couldn't very well tell anyone that they were escaped soldiers from a Republic ship the Sith had shot down. Carth chuckled grimly. He might be arrested for abuse. He'd just have to wait. And if….if she hadn't woken up by tomorrow night, well…he'd think of something.

Right now, though, he had to get on Taris' schedule. And he needed rest. Carth checked Aithne briefly, and smiled. She had relaxed, was breathing more deeply, and the bump on her head had started to go down. She'd be fine.

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><p><em>The hum of lightsabers, red and yellow. A young woman, her expression determined and so annoyingly self-righteous and naïve. I felt sorry for her, as much as I hated her. My cloak swished around me. When had this gotten so tedious? I was so tired of war. Why couldn't the galaxy just surrender? A horrible presentiment and my ship's deck shook beneath my feet. Fear.<em>

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><p>She woke up at around ten in the morning, Taris wherever-the-hell-they-were time. Carth jumped when she shot up like a rocket at once, hands poised to fight, eyes cloudy. When she'd determined no one was about to attack her, she climbed to her feet, groaning slightly with a rusty voice. Her hands went to her back, to her arms, and Carth realized she was feeling the half-healed bruises, the bandages.<p>

"Good to see you up, instead of thrashing around in your sleep," he remarked. Her head jerked around and her hands came up again. She took a step back. "You must have been having some nightmare," Carth continued calmly, watching her slowly relax. "I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to wake up. I'm Carth, one of the soldiers from the _Endar Spire_. I was with you on the escape pod, do you remember?"

He watched her keenly, not moving from his spot on the bed, but ready to fight if she attacked. He smiled at her, and slowly, her eyes began to clear. They were a light, golden brown. He saw memory, grief, fear, and then finally recognition cross her face fluidly. The expressions were clear. "Right, Commander," she said, her voice hoarse. She frowned, and cleared her throat. When she spoke again her voice was low and musical. "I'm Aithne Morrigan, by the way. How did we get here?" She gestured expansively at the grimy apartment surrounding them.

Carth grimaced. "Just Carth, Aithne Morrigan." He wasn't commander of anything at the moment, and titles would only complicate the job they had to do. "You've been out for a couple of days now, so I imagine you're pretty confused about things. Try not to worry. We're safe," Aithne's eyes narrowed, and Carth was compelled to add, "At least for the moment."

She nodded warily, sitting down again, and facing him. "We're in an abandoned apartment on the planet of Taris," he told her. He explained how she'd been hurt when the pod had crashed and how he had managed to drag her from the crash site and to follow the alien to their location before the Sith arrived.

He watched her as she processed this. "So you just got up and went, after a pod crash, and dragged me along?" She looked at him speculatively. "It's nothing to sneeze at, Comm….Carth, and more than most would have done or been able to do." She stood, and bowed. "I owe you my life. Thank you."

Carth was embarrassed. He waved away her thanks. "You don't have to thank me. I've never abandoned anyone on a mission, and I'm not about to start now. Besides, I'm going to need your help. Taris is under Sith control. Their fleet is orbiting the planet. They've declared martial law, and they've imposed a planet-wide quarantine. But I've been in worse spots."

Aithne Morrigan made a disgusted face. "Like what?" she asked incredulously.

Carth chuckled. The expression was really very comical. "I'll be sure to tell you sometime," he promised. "I saw on your service records that you understand a remarkable number of alien languages," he told her, _and that you're deadly and no real Republic soldier, _he thought, but didn't add. "That's pretty rare in a raw recruit, but it should come in handy while we're stranded on a foreign world. There's no way the Republic will be able to get anyone through the Sith blockade to help us. If we're going to find Bastila and get off this planet, we can't rely on anybody but ourselves."

"Better and better," Aithne grumbled. She massaged her temples. "Bastila? Trask…" she paused. "He wanted to look for her, too." Carth guessed Trask had been someone she'd fought alongside of on the _Spire. _"She…she's a Jedi, right?"

Carth felt a sudden rush of sympathy. She'd obviously been hit pretty hard. He quickly explained how Bastila had killed Darth Revan. "Bastila is the key to the whole Republic war effort. The Sith must have found out she was on the _Endar Spire_ and set an ambush for us in this system. I saw Bastila get on an escape pod. She must have crashed down here on Taris. For the sake of the Republic war effort, we have to find her."

Aithne's eyes flashed with brief annoyance. "How can one person, even a Jedi, be so important?" she asked.

Carth smiled. He understood the sentiment. And, admittedly, it would be much easier to sneak off Taris if it were just the two of them. He had other things he'd rather be doing, too. But nevertheless, he explained about Bastila's Battle Meditation. "She can inspire her allies with confidence and make her enemies lose their will to fight. Often that's all it takes to tip the balance in a battle. Of course, there are limits to what she can do. From what I understand of her ability, it requires great concentration and focus to maintain her Battle Meditation. The attack on the _Endar Spire_ happened so fast she never had a chance to use her Battle Meditation. Like us, she barely got out alive."

Aithne nodded thoughtfully. "But of course both armies will be rushing around to claim her now," she muttered. "The Sith'll be wanting to bribe, recruit, or force her to use it to make sure they win. Oh, just forget about strategy, and supplies. So long as you have the never-lose-a-battle good luck charm. Still, we'd best find her before they do. What do you suggest we do next?"

Carth regarded her for a moment. Her face was locked in a polite, go-to smile, but behind it her eyes observed him just as keenly as he was observing her. He wondered what she was looking for.

He did have a few ideas. He explained his theory that no one would be looking for them. No one would recognize her at all, and though a few Sith might know him by name or reputation, no one would be looking. Not with Bastila on the loose. He suggested they move without attracting notice. "If Bastila's going to escape Taris, she's going to need our help," he said firmly, "And we'll probably need hers," he admitted. The two of them alone probably didn't have the firepower to orchestrate an escape.

When he had finished, Aithne was looking at him with what could only be surprised respect. Carth realized, then: she had only been asking him his opinion for the look of the thing, not because she'd actually anticipated following his advice. But apparently that had changed, for she asked now, "Any idea where we should start looking for Bastila?"

Carth nodded. "While you were out I did some scouting around. There are reports of a couple of escape pods crashing down into the Undercity. That's probably a good place to start."

Aithne moved to get ready. Carth held up a hand. "Wait a second. The Undercity is a dangerous place. We don't want to go in there unprepared. It won't do Bastila any good if we go and get ourselves killed."

She stopped. "Alright. So we scout out the upper levels, gather what information we can, and see if we can't get ourselves some more supplies. I grabbed some credits off the bodies on the _Spire_, but other than that I only have a few medpacs. What can you tell me about Taris? I don't think I've been here for any extended period of time."

Carth was impressed. She was quick. Carth explained the three levels of Taris and the classes that lived there. He'd been to Taris on assignment a few years back. It wasn't a fond memory. "I entered this info into your datapad journal," he said, when he'd finished, holding it out to her. Indeed, when he'd woken up in the morning he'd taken the time to find her journal and enter all relevant information about their current mission into it.

Aithne's eyebrows rose in surprise, and she smiled a little. She took the journal from him. "Thanks." She looked at him musingly for a moment, then shook herself. "The sooner we start looking for Bastila the better," she said in a new, harsher voice.

Carth nodded. "You're right. We can use this abandoned apartment as a base, and we can probable get some equipment and supplies here in the Upper City. Just remember to keep a low profile," he advised. "I've heard some grim stories about the Sith interrogation techniques. They say the Force can do terrible things to a mind. It can wipe away your memories and destroy your very identity!"

Aithne's eyes clouded over, as if she were remembering something. She shivered, and some of the blood she'd regained in her face since she'd woken up drained away. Carth hastened to reassure her. "But I figure if we don't do anything stupid we should be ok. I mean, after all, they're…they're looking for Bastila, not a couple of grunts like us. Alright, soldier, let's move out!"

Aithne didn't budge. Instead, she put her hands on her hips, scowling. _Oh, that's right, _Carth though, _this one doesn't do orders well. _

But when she spoke she didn't mention anything about that. Instead, she gestured to herself in exasperation. "Carth," she said slowly. "I've been wearing this for days. It has blood and dirt on it. If it's not too terrible of an inconvenience to you, I'd like to change before we go waltzing around in the Upper City."

Carth blinked. She hadn't changed. He was somewhat astonished to see that she was all dirty and bloody. She'd sounded so normal and reasonable when they'd been discussing plans he'd forgotten that just an hour or so ago he'd been wondering if she'd ever wake up. "Oh, of course. Well, go ahead then. The water in this apartment is run by the block. It's running," he said.

Aithne turned on her heel, scooping up the clothes he'd left on the bed for her. As she went, he thought he heard her mumble something about the stupidity of men.

When she emerged from the fresher twenty minutes later, Carth was astonished. He'd been talking to a fellow soldier when she'd woken up. He'd been focused on their task to the point that she'd become faceless. She wouldn't be now, ever again. She wore her spare scout's uniform, and it was clean and fitted her well. Her hair, washed and dried, was revealed to be chestnut in color, and it was every bit as thick and curly as he'd thought. She'd braided and pinned it into submission for the moment, but Carth could already see a few curls escaping. She'd regained a bit of color in her cheeks, and stood tall and proud in front of him. Far from an unconscious burden, and no faceless fellow soldier, this was Aithne Morrigan. She radiated a quiet presence, one that made the passably pretty features he'd noticed already beautiful.

She quirked an arched eyebrow at him. The expression was the mirror of one he'd gotten from some of his strictest teachers back at the Academy, and belatedly, Carth realized he'd been staring.

He smiled tightly, a bit angry with himself. He'd no business eyeing the woman. His mission, plain and simple, was to find Bastila and escape the planet with her. Then he'd have nothing more to do with her. He had to kill Saul for what he'd done to the Republic. And to Morgana and Dustil.

"You look better," he said lamely.

"Most people do when they're clean," Aithne observed. Carth chuckled in surprise.

"Are you ready yet?" he asked.

"Not quite." Aithne said, strolling over to the workbench in their apartment. "Toss me my pack and an energy bar."

Carth grabbed her pack from beside her bed and an energy bar from the meager supplies he had collected while scouting out Taris. Walking over, he handed them both to the woman at the workbench.

"Thanks," she said, already pulling out her vibroblade and an energy cell. "I got the energy cell off a fallen Jedi on the _Spire_. The blade was off the Sith captain after the droid did him in. Together, they'll remind me what I'm doing," she explained as she worked quickly and efficiently. As she operated, she took bites of energy bar. In less than ten minutes, she sheathed her blade again and turned to Carth, face grim.

"_Now_ I'm ready," she said. Without another word she turned and led the way out of the apartment. Carth shook his head, amused. _So much for 'Commander' Onasi_, he thought.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: One thing you'll notice if you've read this before is how I've switched to strict third person limited POV, rather than the third person semi-omniscient I used before. Due to this, and to certain plot requirements, periodically I will be switching POVs. I did this towards the end of this story the last time; this time I'm making it a consistent rule. NPCs won't always have entire chapters, like this Carth chapter, but they will have a few pages of action. Common POVs will be Carth and Bastila, and I might throw in the occasional Mission or Jolee POV. Canderous might even have something to say. These will always be announced and divided, and of course, the usual flow will be in Aithne-POV. **

**Read and review!**

**May the Force be with You,**

**LMSharp**


	3. Testing the Waters

**Disclaimer: The KotOR Universe in all its glory belongs…well, not to me.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Three<p>

Carth's low profile idea wasn't going to make it past the complex corridor, Aithne thought as she emerged from the apartment. A Sith and two droids were holding two Duros at gunpoint.

"Okay, you alien scum," the Sith shouted. "Get up against the wall! This is a raid!" One of the Duros raised his hands in exasperation.

/There was a patrol here just yesterday!/ He complained in the native Duros tongue. Beside her, Aithne felt Carth tense beside her and knew he understood the Duros as well as she did. The language was common enough. This wouldn't be pretty.

/They found nothing!/ continued the Duros. /Why do you Sith keep bothering us?/

The Sith suddenly brought up his blaster rifle and fired two shots into the protester. The Duros dropped, stone dead.

"That's how we Sith deal with smart-mouth aliens!" declared the Sith proudly. Aithne quivered with rage. "Now the rest of you get up against the wall before I lose my temper again!"

The Sith turned, gesturing at Carth and Aithne with his rifle. Then he checked, realizing what he was seeing. "Hey, what's this?" he asked himself. "Humans hiding out with aliens?" Then, to the droids, he shouted the command. "They're Republic fugitives! Attack!"

Aithne smiled, feeling a bit mad. Beside her, Carth shot her an apprehensive look that had nothing to do with the approaching firefight. Aithne turned the grin to him for an instant. Then, without further thought, she drew her sword and vibroblade and plunged into battle. Carth drew his blasters similarly, and sighing, came to her aid.

Aithne moved through the combatants in a deadly dance. She acted reflexively, dodging shots and aiming blows at the battle droids' sensitive joints and the gaps in the Sith soldier's armor. In the back of her mind she noticed Carth, and then she focused a bit more on him. She saw him take shots at targets she couldn't aim for and keep her guard up, expertly firing not one but two blasters. He seemed to know, too, where she needed him to shoot, without hint or direction from her. Aithne laughed merrily. Oh, one could go into battles with all sorts of people, but a true fighting companion, that was a rare blessing, and it looked like she had found one.

In no time, the Sith and droids were down. Aithne turned to the remaining Duros, not even breathing heavily.

/Poor Ixgil/ remarked the Duros. /He should never have talked back to that Sith. Thankfully you were here to step in and help us, humans. This isn't the first time the Sith have come in here to cause trouble for us, but hopefully it will be the last/.

Frankly, Aithne was doubtful, but she didn't want to rain on his parade. "Won't someone come searching for this patrol?" she asked, keeping the Duros' attention focused on the problem at hand.

/Don't worry about the bodies/ the Duros assured her. /I will move them so it looks like they were killed elsewhere. That should throw the Sith off the track. With any luck, they won't be bothering us again for a while/.

Aithne nodded politely. _Poor guy. He'll be dead next week with that attitude. The Sith will never leave him alone and if he ever lets down his guard he's dead. _

"C'mon," she called to Carth in a tense voice. Carth followed, face grim.

Aithne stopped at the door of the next apartment, hesitating. "Look, I know it's not the most tasteful way to supply…but unless you smuggled a couple thousand credits off the _Spire_…" she gestured at the door guiltily.

Carth grimaced. "Don't worry about it, Aithne," he said in a low voice. "I know all about soldier raids. If the Republic still had a base here we could petition them for supplies, but as it is…" he sighed, then motioned that they could proceed to rob the inmates of the apartment in question.

There was a sour taste in Aithne's mouth as they worked their way through the apartment block, picking up all the food, credits, and weapons both available and portable. She never had liked raiding. It made her feel so dirty. And like the Sith. It was what he'd been doing when he'd killed that Duros…

The inmates of the apartment block were mostly refugees, like Carth had told her. They didn't even put up a fight. Who could they call? It made Aithne feel even worse. The only consolation was that maybe they would pick up enough that they wouldn't have to raid again. They dropped some unnecessary food and weapons back at the base before they set off to scout out the rest of the Upper City, but Carth made sure they both had at least one back-up weapon, their datapad journals, and a few energy bars before they went anywhere.

As they left the complex, Aithne looked sideways at her companion. He looked pretty miserable about the raiding, too. It occurred to Aithne that she didn't really know anything about him: who he was, where he'd come from, how he might react in different situations they could come up against. He'd saved her life at the crash site, she knew, which was more than most would have done. He looked nearer forty than thirty, old enough to have both valuable experience and a whole slew of issues. For all that, he was a very good-looking man. She'd noticed. He was tall and well-built, with a full head of dark brown hair and caramel-colored eyes. And he'd already impressed her with his insights as to strategy here on quarantined Taris, and with his fighting ability. Still, she decided she wanted to know more about him, and said as much.

Carth was taken aback. He looked at her in befuddlement and had to dodge to avoid running into a street lamp. Aithne bit back a laugh. "Me?" he asked, as if for confirmation.

"No. The Chancellor," Aithne said seriously. Carth's face twisted again in confusion before he realized she was joking. Then, hesitantly, he smiled.

"Well, I've been a star-pilot for the Republic for years," Carth began. "I've seen more than my share of wars… I fought in the Mandalorian Wars before all this started," he explained. "But with all that, I've never experienced anything like the slaughter these Sith animals can unleash. Not even the Mandalorians were that senseless!"

"I don't like the Sith," observed Aithne. "They are stupid bullies on a vast, powerful scale. But I've never liked bullies, either. The Mandalorians, at least, had a sense of honor." Carth looked at her, and Aithne realized she had interrupted him with chagrin. "Anyways, back to you." She bowed apologetically.

Carth nodded and continued. "My homeworld was one of the first planets to fall to Malak's fleet. The Sith bombed it into submission, and there wasn't a damn thing our Republic forces could do to stop them!"

Aithne winced. She didn't particularly like vulgarity, but she wasn't going to correct him right now. But…"You're talking like it's your fault," she observed. "Like you failed somehow."

Carth looked even more agitated, waving his hands around in frustration. "It shouldn't be my fault!" he snapped. "I did everything I could…I followed my orders and did my duty. That shouldn't mean I failed them! I didn't!" he finished, looking half wild. Aithne was fascinated. The man sounded like this was a conversation he'd had with himself many times before.

Aithne wanted to comfort him, but didn't dare. His family, his friends: he hadn't been able to save any of them, and for a man who had made protecting the helpless his life's work, that must be eating him alive. "Them? Do you mean the people of your home world?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes. No…" Carth said, looking confused. "That's not what I mean. I mean…I'm sorry," he went on in a gentler tone, looking at her with his caramel eyes.

Aithne's stomach lurched. She'd obviously poked a hornet's nest. The pain in those eyes almost took her breath away. Then he veiled it. "I'm not making much sense, am I?" he asked, smiling brokenly. "You probably mean well with your questions. I'm just not accustomed to talking about my past much. At all, actually."

_Subject closed, in other words, _thought Aithne regretfully.

"I'm more used to taking action," said Carth, shaking it off and looking more like a caricature of a soldier than a man. "To keeping my mind focused on the business at hand. So let's just do that. If you have more questions, ask them later."

Aithne nodded. There wasn't anything to say. Carth Onasi had a story, obviously. A sad one steeped in guilt and regret. His eyes as he spoke of the destruction of his home world haunted her. She wouldn't soon forget the passion that had been in his voice, yet she wondered if she really wanted to wade into those depths of pain and anger. Awkwardly, Aithne turned away, and set off towards the southwest corner of the Upper City.

"You said you thought Bastila had crashed in the Undercity?" she called back lamely.

"Yes." Carth answered shortly, still not fully recovered.

"Let's see if we can get down there."

It turned out they couldn't. When they reached the elevator to the Lower City, an armored Sith stopped them. Apparently, the quarantine was keeping the levels of the city separate, as well as blocking the planet off from the rest of the galaxy. They would require security papers to pass through.

Leaving, though, Aithne noted something. The Sith had stopped them, not because they had no papers, but because they were not dressed as Sith.

"We need armor," she murmured to Carth as they walked away.

"Not papers?"

"He didn't care that we didn't have papers," Aithne pointed out. "This is the Upper City. Not much goes on up here that the Sith can't handle. I'm guessing security is pretty lax. I think if we look like Sith, the guard will let us through."

"Devious," Carth complimented her. "How are we going to get it?"

"Don't know yet," Aithne admitted. "If we'd known when we killed that Sith back in the complex we could've taken his, but that Duros will have hidden the body by now. Still, it ought to be easier to get armor than to get papers."

Carth smiled. "Why don't we head to the cantina," he suggested. "We can get a drink, something to eat, and hopefully, some information. All sorts of people hang out at the cantina. Maybe we can pick up a lead on how to get some Sith armor."

"Good idea," Aithne said. "I'm parched."

"Let's go."

In a matter of minutes they were in the cantina. Aithne noticed an old man watching her. Their eyes met, and he beckoned. After a brief conversation, Aithne returned to Carth.

"What was that all about?" Carth asked.

"He's giving up Pazaak," Aithne explained. "He asked me to buy his deck."

"Did you?" Carth asked.

"Of course. I'm a fair hand at Pazaak. I could earn us some credits in no time!" she boasted, grinning.

"Prove it!" challenged Carth, pointing at the man across the room from them. "That man over there swears he's the reigning Pazaak champ on Taris. I'll bet you the price of our meal here that you can't beat him."

"Get out your credits," Aithne grinned. "You're buying."

Fifteen minutes later, Aithne came over to the table at which Carth was seated, smiling from ear to ear, glowing as only a woman can do when she is privileged to be able to say "I told you so."

"I told you so," Aithne said, beaming at Carth.

"Oh, very mature," Carth grumped, reluctantly handing the waiter the credits for the food he'd just delivered. Aithne stuck her tongue out at him.

"Is this a good time to ask you some more questions?" said Aithne, asking her first.

Carth sat back. "I'm all ears, beautiful," he said lazily.

Aithne looked at him, startled. A blush crept over her cheeks. He grinned at her, his eyes glinting in the dim light of the cantina. "Beautiful?" she repeated, more severely than she intended to. "Isn't that a little inappropriate?" Especially considering he seemed so messed up, and he _was_ very attractive, and they could be slaughtered any minute by the Sith. She had neither time nor foolishness enough to spend being attracted to this man or entertaining any flirtation.

Carth raised his eyebrows, surprised. _He probably expected me to fall at his feet,_ thought Aithne scornfully. "Is there something else you'd prefer I called you?" he asked carefully.

"How about my name?" Aithne suggested sarcastically, trying to pretend she hadn't been flattered by the nickname.

Carth raised his hands defensively. "Don't get yourself in a twist over it, gorgeous, I didn't mean anything by it." His eyes twinkled with mischief.

Aithne felt herself turning red, this time with annoyance. "There you go _again_!" she accused.

Carth threw up his hands in frustration. "Oh for crying out…" he complained. "Fine. If it'll make you feel better, you call me something. Go ahead, Come on. I can take it."

His childish suggestion annoyed Aithne even further. She knew her anger showed all over her face. It was one of her worst faults: she just couldn't hide her emotions. Carth was clearly amused. He grinned at her in challenge, and Aithne rose to the bait. She couldn't help it. "How about 'sexist worm'?"

Carth laughed. "Is that it?" he mocked her. "C'mon! You can do better than that!"

Aithne glared at him. "You…you…you sexless marsh toad!"

Carth put a mock hand to his heart as if struck by an arrow. "Ouch. That i_s_ better. Well, I bet 'beautiful' doesn't sound so bad in comparison, now, does it?"

Aithne laughed in spite of herself. "You are such a pain, you know that?" Maybe he wasn't so bad. And after all, he was pretty cute…

"Guilty as charged," Carth said. "I'll bet you still have those questions in mind, though. Are they really necessary?"

_Nice way to kill the mood, Onasi. _"Don't be such a child. It's just a few questions."

Carth put a hand to his mouth in mock horror. "Oh no!" he cried. "How can I resist a challenge to my manly pride, huh?" He laughed. "Fine. You've made your point. Interrogate at will."

Aithne grinned evilly, rubbing her hands together and looking down her nose. "Excellent," she cackled in her best evil genius impersonation. "Soon all your secrets will be mine!"

Carth's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and Aithne felt the joke had fallen rather flat. He forced a smile. It stretched awkwardly, mask-like, upon his face. "All my secrets are purely of the mundane variety, unfortunately," he said quietly. "Nothing worth extracting, though you're welcome to try."

_Try, _Aithne thought, _so he's not going to comply. _

"Let me ask you something first, though," he said. "I've been going through the battle aboard the _Endar Spire_ over and over in my head since we crashed. Some things just don't add up for me. Maybe you could tell me what happened. From your perspective."

Something in Carth's tone made Aithne zero in on his words. "I was asleep until we were boarded, Carth," she said carefully. "I wasn't exactly in a position to know what was going on, really."

"Neither was I, to tell the truth," Carth said. "I was on board as an advisor for the most part. The battle began so fast, it's anyone's guess as to what actually happened. We lost the ship and a lot of good people…and for what? On the hope that Jedi powers would save us somehow." Carth smiled ironically. "Not that Bastila had much of an opportunity to act. We didn't choose that battle, anyway. It got forced on us. I'm just surprised that any of us are alive to talk about it. Come to think of it," he said, more directly, and Aithne knew he'd come to the point. "It's more than a little surprising that you happen to be here, isn't it? Just what is your position in the Republic Fleet, anyway?"

"I'm a scout," Aithne answered, not knowing what he was getting at, but sure she wouldn't like it. "I was recruited into the fleet for my skills, if you must know."

Carth nodded. "Well, that makes sense. Still, it seems a bit strange that someone who was a last-minute addition to the crew roster is one of the survivors."

Aithne felt her face grow hot. _Was he accusing her of treason?_

"Commander, I survived purely because some no-nothing kid ran in front of a Dark Jedi for me," she said coldly. Carth's eyes widened at the use of his title. "I don't know why he died for me. I didn't know him. But if he hadn't, I'd surely be just as dead as he is now. I assure you, Commander, my survival wasn't some nefarious scheme I'd prearranged with the Sith." Then she realized something else he'd said. "Wait, what's so odd about me being added to the crew at the last minute?" she asked, on a hunch.

"You were the only one," said Carth. "Not to mention that Bastila's party was the one who requested your transfer."

_Straight out of training? _"Why would Bastila request my transfer?"

Carth shrugged, obviously not interested in this side of the problem. "The Jedi requested numerous things when they came on board. They practically took over the ship, as far as I could tell." Focusing again, he said. "I'm sorry about that kid, but considering your connection to Bastila and the Jedi…whether you know it or not…your presence here seems a little convenient. I'm probably wrong," he added hastily. Aithne was shaking with rage. "And this is probably nothing, I know. I learned a long time ago not to take things at face value, however, and I _hate_ surprises."

"Surprises like your ally turning out to be a Secret Sith Agent?" Aithne asked bitterly, not even looking at him. She guessed they couldn't be friends, then.

"I mean I have to expect the unexpected, just to be safe," Carth said.

"Are you always this suspicious?" Aithne asked, annoyed, and more than a little hurt.

Carth looked down and shifted guiltily. "Look…it has nothing to do with you personally. I don't trust anyone, and I have my reasons."

Aithne opened her mouth to ask, but Carth cut her off. "And no, I'm not going to discuss them. So can we keep our mind on more important things?"

Locking her eyes onto him, Aithne saw the hurt and anger she'd noted earlier flicker. She softened. It wasn't as if he knew her at all, anyway. "I consider this important," she said softly.

"Alright, alright!" said Carth, throwing down his fork. "You must be the most damned persistent woman I've ever met!"

"Please don't swear at me," Aithne asked, annoyed again.

Carth nodded. "We'll talk about it, but later. Right now I just want to get going."

Aithne sighed resignedly. "Fine." She said, rising.

"Where are we going?" Carth asked, alarmed.

"I noted some dueling viewscreens coming in. I'm going to go sign up to duel."

"Why in the galaxy would you do that?"

"Credits. And I want to get a reputation as someone who gets things done. Anonymity is all well and good, but we're going to need allies," Aithne said firmly. "And the best way to get allies in a hurry is to have a reputation for efficiency. We might have to do a few favors. But it'll work out in the long run."

"Besides," she said, her mouth twisting ironically, "Because of my inexperience with the Republic, the Sith are probably looking for me even less than you!"

She turned on her heel and marched away. Let him chew on that, if he liked, she thought with satisfaction. Let him see how stupid it was to think she'd have any affiliation with the Sith.

Behind her she heard Carth asking the waiter for a double.

"The woman with the vibroblade?" the waiter asked.

Carth groaned in agreement. "Gorgeous, but she looks tough," the waiter remarked. "My condolences."

Aithne smiled grimly. She was tough. He'd see just how tough.

In a couple of hours, Aithne returned, and handed him 30 credits.

"What's this for?"

"Your share of my winnings," Aithne informed him. "You don't get half. I did all the work. But we are allies, and you did save my life, so you get ten percent of my takings, flyboy."

"How did you get three-hundred credits?" Carth said wearily.

"I fought the first two duelists on the dueling ladder of Taris. The first guy was a pushover. Name of 'Deadeye Duncan'. If I'd just beaten him we'd have been laughed out of town. Because I beat Gerlon Two-Fingers also, we have some credit, and not just the monetary kind. I used the stage name 'Mysterious Stranger'."

"Not Aithne Morrigan?" Carth asked sarcastically.

"I'm not a total idiot, Onasi." Aithne snapped. "Please do not treat me like one."

"You can keep your credits, Aithne," Carth said, sliding the pieces back over to her scornfully.

"Well if I'm not being a total idiot, you are." Aithne observed coolly. "You aren't doing a thing to up our credits. And I'm certainly not paying for you. So you get paid for your assistance." She grinned wickedly. "You can call it your salary," she added.

"We're Republic soldiers on a mission!" Carth said, with some heat. "Nobody pays anybody!"

"We're the only known two survivors of the crash," Aithne answered back calmly, with some steel. "We can throw Republic protocol out the window, particularly as I never cared for it in the first place. The minute you start earning money for us and our purposes, _you_ can start paying _me_! Sheesh, Carth, I'm just trying to work out a way for us to have money and share it without having to worry whose is whose."

Carth nodded, seeing the logic, and accepted the credits.

"Now, if it doesn't inconvenience you too terribly," Aithne said, awfully sarcastic, "I'm going to look about for some Sith to corrupt and exploit."

"Hold it right there, sister," Carth said. "You're going to go to _talk_ to _Sith_?"

Aithne rolled her eyes at him. "Use your brain, officer. You must have one somewhere, though I haven't seen it since that first hour after I woke up. We need Sith armor. We could get five thousand credits and try to buy it off the black market. We could go and kill another Sith, but that might get us noticed. So, our best bet is to find a Sith and either talk or trick him out of his armor."

"It's risky," Carth warned, but he looked thoughtful.

"So is being on this planet," Aithne retorted. "I see two Sith in this cantina right now."

Carth went quiet. Aithne followed his gaze. He noticed the woman standing off by herself, looking haughty and a little frightened. Aithne guessed how he'd noticed her. Her military bearing was unmistakable. She was out of uniform, but it was driving everyone else away from her. "I see one," he said in an undertone.

"The other is behind you, just in the other room. A man, this time. He looks a little drunk." Aithne added.

Carth nodded. He met Aithne's gaze and shrugged. "So which one are you going to go after?" he asked.

Aithne was taken aback yet again. She'd been so angry at him for mistrusting her, and just like that, the anger had gone with his easy assent to her plan. He wasn't going to be all commanding-officer about things, after all. "It's a good plan," he added, as if he guessed her thoughts. She decided to let him off the hook for now. She surveyed the two Sith.

"The man," she said finally. "The woman looks a bit more guarded, and she's definitely more sober. The man will be easier to talk around."

Carth smiled. "Go ahead," he said, a grin lighting his face. He wanted to see this.

Aithne smiled back at him, handing Carth her vibroblades under the table. She worked her face into a ditzy expression, and sashayed over to meet the Sith. She engaged him in conversation, pretending to find the sallow skinned, weak-chinned fellow impossibly attractive. She had talked to him maybe seven minutes before he'd invited her to a Sith party that night. He obviously was lacking female companionship. Just to be safe, Aithne asked with much fluttering of the eyelashes, if she mightn't bring her friend along, too, explaining how he wasn't all _there _and didn't get out much. The Sith, Yun, agreed, confident such a stupid fellow as she described wouldn't ruin his plans to enjoy Aithne's company.

She walked back over to Carth when Yun left. He was looking at her, expression guarded. "You were…um…very convincing," he said tightly. She tilted her head.

"It's not very hard to act stupid, Carth, nor to be attractive to someone who's desperate for a date," she said reasonably. "Anyway, I wrangled us an invitation to a Sith party in a couple hours. Sith will get drunk, and my friend Yun there said they won't be bothering to lock up their uniforms. So c'mon, smile. And follow me. We need to find something to wear."

Carth made an attempt at a smile, but his eyes were guarded still. "You telling me I should smile because we're going shopping? Sister, just shoot me now!"

Aithne laughed.

An hour and forty-five minutes later they were back at the apartment. Carth had been surprised when Aithne had gotten exactly what she wanted in twenty minutes and left the store. Aithne had not been surprised when Carth had taken a similarly short amount of time choosing his own party clothes. He was out in the main room now, already dressed, while Aithne dressed and prepared for the party.

His voice rose up in a growl from outside. "C'mon, Morrigan, we'll be late!"

"Keep your shirt on, Onasi," Aithne drawled. "I'm ready."

She stepped out, and Carth blinked. For a moment, Aithne was highly gratified to see his eyes light up with admiration. She had chosen the classic black dress, a number that set off her frame and features without compromising her modesty in the slightest. She imagined she did look rather well.

His hair was brushed, and he had shaved. His clothes were crisp and neat, and best of all, a very becoming dark red. It made a wonderful change from the garish orange flight jacket she'd been looking at all day. She shook her head in wonder. Really, Carth Onasi was a very handsome man. "You clean up well, flyboy," she told him, her voice low.

Carth frowned. He retreated behind his soldier mask. "Let's go," he said tersely.

"Lighten up," Aithne said, trying not to look hurt. "It was just a compliment."

They walked over to the other apartments in silence. In a short time, they were opening the door to the apartment where the Sith bash was located.

The atmosphere was hazy with smoke, and the entire place smelled like alcohol. Music pounded through the speakers, and Sith swayed awkwardly on the dance floor in what was less of a dance and more of a mix of lust and too much to drink.

Yun the Sith came forward to meet them.

"You made it!" he said, enthusiastically, slurring his words a little. "Wait, who's that?" he asked, confused, gesturing at Carth.

"You did say I could bring my friend," Aithne reminded him with a pout. She leaned forward and in a stage whisper said "This has to be the first time he's been to a party in months, poor dear!"

Carth glared at her, but didn't say anything. Yun shrugged.

"You've got to try some of this Tarisian ale!" he told Aithne, swinging an arm around her shoulders. His hand hung a bit too low for comfort. Aithne didn't know if it was drunkenness or stratagem at first, but then she saw Carth's face darken, and suspected the latter.

"Careful, Yun," called a Sith from a few feet away. "A couple more bottles of this and we'll all be passed out on the floor!"

_That's the idea_, thought Aithne in satisfaction. Yun laughed at the other Sith giddily. "Aww, Live a little, Sarna. We don't have work tomorrow, anyway!"

Aithne was only able to keep an eye on Carth for the first few moments: long enough to see him stalk over to a couch, and rebuff an amorous Sith woman with an expression more intimidating than a murderous rhakghoul. But then she was too busy warding off Yun to pay Onasi much mind.

More than a little drunk, Yun had obviously had other ideas inviting her to the party than just a pretty face to spend the evening with. After a few of the Sith had passed out, Aithne decided she was tired of turning her face to the side and smiling stupidly. She ran for Carth. His eyes lingered on her disarrayed hair contemptuously.

"Shut up," she told him, though he hadn't said anything. "Help me out, Onasi. I just managed to get away from that creep."

"You mean your date?" Carth asked, snorting. "Could've called that one."

For some reason he seemed annoyed. Maybe because this had been her plan, maybe because drunken Sith women had been propositioning him, but whatever the reason, Aithne didn't have time to figure it out. She saw Yun across the room coming towards her. So she apologized anyway. "Please, Carth. I'm sorry. I know I messed up. Just help me out! Here he comes!"

Carth sighed. "Ok, just don't freak out."

And then he stood, and wrapped her up in his arms just as Yun rounded the corner. "There you are, Addie," he said tenderly, using the alias she'd told him to call her by. He tilted her face up to his, skimming his finger along her jaw. Aithne held her face immobile, refusing to show the shock she felt, but she felt goosebumps rise up on her arms. He didn't smell like alcohol in the slightest. His fingers were calloused and warm. He looked into her eyes, the very image of an adoring lover.

_Wow, he's good, _Aithne thought fuzzily, and clung to him, hoping Yun would just go away.

He didn't. Aithne cried out as she was wrenched from Carth and forced up against a wall. "Just a friend, Addie?" Yun slurred, threateningly raising his hand. "Not all there, huh? You slut, I'll teach you to mess with the Sith!"

Yun was tapped on the shoulder lightly. He turned blearily, and his face met Carth's fist, and like all his fellows, he was out.

Aithne breathed out, "Thanks,"

Carth was already across the room. "Check it out," he called over. He tossed her a heavy Sith backpack. She buckled a bit under its weight, then steadied. She opened it, seeing the tale-tell shine of Sith armor.

"Great. I hope it belongs to that jerk."

"It does." Carth said, almost gleefully. "I checked. I'm kind of glad I won't be there when he explains how he lost it…"he trailed off, smiling evilly. Aithne shook her head. Huh. Though he was no adoring lover, Carth sure knew how to get revenge on Yun for giving her a hard time. She thoroughly approved. Maybe they were friends, or could be.

"Didn't know you had it in you, Onasi! Bravo!" For a moment she looked at him, and she remembered him holding her and how she had trembled. She shook it off, dismissing it as a temporary weirdness. "Come on, it's late," she said abruptly. "Let's go. Lower City tomorrow."

The streets were almost clear of people as they headed back to their abandoned apartment. Without a word, Aithne went to the fresher and removed her makeup and dress, dressing in her scout's uniform, which she had washed and left to dry earlier. She emerged, and she checked.

Carth was in the plain tee and shorts that he obviously slept in. The shirt was tight enough to bring the beginnings of a blush to Aithne's face. Carth, noting her stare, began to smile. This was the Carth that had called her 'Beautiful' in the cantina. Aithne tightened her jaw and turned out the light, and climbed into her bed. The set-up of the apartment was such so that the two twin beds faced one another, foot to foot.

A moment later she heard Carth climb into his own bed. Looking over, she could see the outline his feet made against the sheets.

"Your feet stink, flyboy," she muttered.

She heard him chuckle. "Good night, beautiful." But it was a long time before Aithne got any sleep.


	4. Allies in Odd Places

**Disclaimer: The KotOR Universe is no more mine than it was five minutes ago. And it wasn't mine then, either.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Four<p>

Aithne felt a hand shaking her gently. She moaned. "Five more minutes," she growled, turning over.

"C'mon, Aithne, we need to go to the Lower City and save Bastila," said a warm male voice, much in the tone her mother might have said "It's time to go to school," had she ever had a mother to say such things. The absurdity of it woke Aithne up, and she laughed. She opened her eyes.

"Thanks, Mom," she said. "But I'm not going anywhere until I have my breakfast."

"Here," Carth said, handing her an energy bar.

Aithne took it, sitting up. She opened it and took a bite of the dry bar. It tasted like sand. She glared at Carth. "You couldn't come up with a better breakfast than this?" she asked. "Some mom you are."

Carth grinned as she finished. "Not a morning person, I take it."

Aithne stretched, yawning. "No, and morning people make me want to reach for my vibroblade." She grabbed a combat suit they picked up the day before and shot another glare at Onasi.

She was provoked to see him wearing a mock-somber expression. "How terribly early it is. Let us wait to save the galaxy until noon," he said in a monotone. His eyes danced.

Aithne snorted, amused in spite of herself. "That's better," she said. She retreated to the fresher and suited up. She noted in annoyance that Carth was sporting his outrageous orange flight jacket. "No way, flyboy," she said, indicating it. "We got a Sith to sneak past, remember?" She tapped the Sith backpack with her foot.

"And I have to dress up in the clown suit?" Carth complained.

Aithne nodded. "Well it wouldn't fit me. I have…a different purpose in this scheme."

"Which is?" His voice was resigned, and he looked at her apprehensively. Aithne nodded approvingly. He was already getting to know her.

"Oh, I'm your slave."

"My what…" asked Carth, puzzled…"Oh…" he said. He blushed.

"No one will ask, trust me," assured Aithne.

Carth hesitated, then he nodded. But he frowned. Aithne wasn't sure if he didn't like her role or his in the plan. But he couldn't say that it wasn't a completely plausible reason for a Sith to take a pretty woman to the Lower City.

"We'll need to stop by the clinic to pick up some medpacs," he suggested, though.

Aithne nodded. He'd said the Undercity was dangerous. "Then keep on the neon, and you'll change in a bath house someplace. In fact, we should probably have a spare set of clothes. From what I understand, once we're in the Lower City, folks there will react better if you're dressed like you and not a Sith."

Carth nodded, shouldering the Sith backpack with distaste. "Let's go, then."

They made their way across the Upper City to the clinic. Aithne got into a conversation with the owner, one Zelka Forn. He was a very nice man, and he gained extra points from both Carth and Aithne for his obvious dislike of the Sith. Still, he seemed very nervous about attracting Sith attention. Aithne found herself promising to look out for the serum to treat the rhakghoul disease, an awful disease that infected inhabitants of the Undercity. Apparently the Republic had come up with a cure, but the Sith had stolen it when they'd annihilated and taken over the Republic base. Now the Sith were reserving the life-saving serum for their own patrols.

A few credits lighter and many medpacs heavier, Aithne took a cordial leave of the healer. As she and Carth were exiting the establishment, Zelka's helper stopped them. He told them to take the cure, when they procured it, to the Exchange, from whom he could extract 'a nice finder's fee'. Aithne sneered. If she gave it to the Exchange, about as many people would get it as had it now, the price would be so steep. Carth expressed his contempt for the idea. Aithne and Carth exchanged glances of perfect understanding. She spun on her heel, beckoned to Carth, and left.

They ducked into a bath house and Carth changed. "C'mon, flyboy," Aithne said. "Don't worry about how you look," she teased him as he emerged reluctantly. "There isn't a man in the galaxy who can rock that armor."

Carth simply looked at her, and Aithne tensed. In the armor and helmet and with his towering frame, he gave an excellent impression of a brutal Sith warrior. Without a word, they set off for the elevator.

It wasn't far. The Sith on guard let them by without much trouble. Aithne looked around as Carth ducked into a bath house again. The Lower City was filthy. Even grimier than their apartment. It was dimly lit, and the sky could not be seen at all, as they were under the part of Taris that reached the sky. Smudges of soot, and what looked suspiciously like blood stained the floors and walls. Aithne sighed. It was depressing.

"Nice place they've got here, huh?" said Carth, echoing her thoughts exactly. Aithne nodded wordlessly. They started forward into the dim.

Carth halted immediately in front of her, and Aithne bumped into him. "Hey, what's the big idea?" she asked irritably. Carth pointed directly in front of them. Two groups of people were lined up to fight.

They hurled insults at each other, from which Aithne gathered that the members on both sides represented two different swoop bike gangs, the Black Vulkars and the Hidden Beks, who were apparently warring. After a brief skirmish, the Vulkars defeated the Beks, and turned to Aithne and her companion. "More strangers!" shouted a Vulkar. "Attack!"

"Really?" Aithne asked Carth incredulously. "Idiots." Carth nodded, and they fought. Before too long, the Vulkars were down. Aithne kicked at one in disgust. "Why can't they just leave us alone?" she muttered angrily. "It's not like I enjoy killing people."

"Do you kill people a lot?" asked Carth in a forced light tone. His eyes betrayed his suspicion.

"You're the soldier," Aithne retorted, "Do you?" Carth looked down, chagrined. Aithne looked away.

Getting their bearings in the Tarisian Lower City unfortunately involved killing a great many Vulkars. The Black Vulkars were violent bullies, attacking with little to no provocation. Aithne saw many frightened families paying them off. The Beks seemed to be much nicer, but they were exactly what their name implied: "Hidden". It soon became clear that the best place to go for information was the cantina, where the owner, Javyar, maintained a general ban on violence, though it was broken every now and then, and the Exchange ran a bounty office from the premises.

Accordingly, they showed up at the cantina around time for lunch. But when they entered it became immediately apparent that the Javyar's violence ban didn't stop the Vulkars from giving other people a hard time. Three gang members faced down a short man in an odd hat and goggles. Though he cut an unimpressive and almost comical figure, he exuded an air of menace that put Aithne on her guard immediately. The Vulkars taunted the man, who they claimed to be famous bounty hunter Calo Nord. They seemed, however, to think he posed no threat to them. Aithne knew differently as the bounty hunter began to count in a menacing, monotone voice. She knew what was coming.

"Get back, Carth," she warned, as Calo finally reached three, and lobbed a flash grenade at the offending Vulkars. She covered her eyes just in time, and, having avoided the momentary blindness resulting from the flash, was able to witness Calo Nord shoot the Vulkars with lightning speed that rivaled even Carth's.

She paled. Calo Nord walked past them, silent and remorseless, putting Aithne in mind of a shark. The bouncer at the door let him pass without comment. "Carth," she said to the Republic pilot, "Let's not get in a fight with him."

"Let's not," Carth agreed. They walked silently over to a table and ordered.

"I'll buy today," Aithne offered, and Carth nodded. For the first few minutes they devoured their food ravenously, near-starving due to the fighting they'd been doing that morning. About halfway through their silent meal, Aithne looked up and around.

The cantina was as dirty as the outside of it. Across the room, she could see a bunch of men and women armed to the teeth and a Hutt, and knew she'd found the bounty office. Slow music circuited through the establishment, and everywhere she turned, Aithne saw desperate eyes, eyes that looked like they were always expecting to be mugged.

"Hey, check it out," said Carth, pointing over to their right. An angry looking teenage Twi'lek had just emerged from a room. Her eyes darted to a huge Wookiee sitting down at a nearby table. She was pretty, even for a Twi'lek, with skin quite a lovely shade of blue and dark brown striped lekku. She looked to be fourteen or fifteen.

Two Rodians followed her, and Aithne could tell from their leering, bullying expressions that they were probably Black Vulkars. She put a hand on her vibroblade.

"No, wait," advised Carth. "I want to see how this plays out." Aithne frowned, but nodded.

The Twi'lek girl turned angrily to the two Vulkars. "I told you to leave me alone," she snapped. "So give me some space, bug-eye! Your breath smells like bantha poodoo!"

Aithne grinned in spite of herself. The girl spoke Basic, oddly enough, and her words had enough spunk to outfit an entire Republic squadron. The Rodians glared, needled by the girl's sharp tongue.

/Little girl should not be in bar,/ one Rodian observed menacingly. /This no place for little girl. If little girl smart, she run away home now/.

Aithne reached for her vibroblade again, but Carth grabbed her hand. The Twi'lek girl flushed purple. "Who you calling a little girl, Chuba-face?" she demanded, hands on her hips.

The other Rodian sneered. /Little girl needs lesson in manners/.

The girl failed to look impressed in the slightest. "Just a sec, boys," she said, holding up a finger. "Zaalbar…a little help here? I need you to rip the legs off some insects."

To Aithne's great surprise, the Wookiee nearby rose, looking mildly annoyed. /Mission-I'm busy/ he whined in his native language. /They just brought my food!/ He sounded fairly young to Aithne, maybe the equivalent of a human twenty-three year old. But she was sure that to nearly everyone else in the bar, he sounded absolutely terrifying. Not many people understood the growls and whines that made up Shyriiwook, the Wookiees' native language.

The girl looked sympathetic, but gestured at the Vulkars and said firmly, "Quit complaining…you can finish eating later. Besides, you need the exercise, so get over here."

The Rodians looked suddenly nervous. Aithne didn't blame them. Not many people wanted to mess with a Wookiee. And those who did rarely lived. /We want no trouble with Wookiee,/ one stammered awkwardly.

/Our problem with you, little girl!/ said the other, bigger, stupider looking Rodian. He raised his blaster, and suddenly the Wookiee, Zaalbar, was at his elbow, looking straight down at him.

"You got a problem with me, then you got a problem with Big Z," the Twi'lek girl, Mission, said. Zaalbar roared his agreement. "So unless you want to take on my furry friend," the girl continued, "I suggest you greenies hop on out of here." She gestured at the door pointedly. Aithne wanted to cheer.

The Vulkars looked at her, then at Zaalbar. Finally, one said sulkily, /Little girl lucky she has big friend/. And, shamed and hardly daring to look from side to side, the Vulkars skulked out of the cantina.

"YES!" said Aithne punching the air. It was the first time she'd seen a Vulkar confrontation that didn't end in robbery or death. "C'mon, Carth, I want to meet those two."

"Gee, I wish you'd been this excited about meeting me," Carth muttered.

Aithne walked over to the girl and the Wookiee. She held out her hand to the girl to shake.

"Hello, I'm Aithne Morrigan," she said brightly. "The man in the stupid looking jacket is my friend Carth Onasi."

"Hey!" Carth yelped, glaring at her.

The Twi'lek girl sized Carth and Aithne up. "Say, I don't recognize you and I know pretty much everyone in the Lower City. You must be new down here." Smiling brilliantly, she returned Aithne's handshake. "I guess that makes me and Big Z your official welcoming committee!"

Her gaze was clear and direct. Her words were friendly. Aithne decided she liked the Twi'lek girl. Carth apparently did too. "You showed a lot of guts dealing with those Vulkars, kid. You got a name?"

"My name's Mission Vao and this big Wookiee is my best friend, Zaalbar. I'd offer to give you a tour, but the streets down here aren't safe. But if there's anything else that you need…" Mission gestured expansively, indicating that she was at their disposal. Aithne asked her a couple of questions, and in a few, short sentences was able to determine the problem with the Vulkars and the Hidden Beks. The leader of the Vulkars was named Brejik. He apparently had been a Hidden Bek at one time, and was now urging the Vulkars on in their war against the Beks and pretty much everyone in the Lower City to wreak some twisted revenge on the leader of the Beks. The leader of the Beks was named Gadon Thek, and Mission assured them he was a good guy. She also gave them the lowdown on Calo Nord, one of Davik Kang-the exchange boss' newest and best bounty hunters. Mission was frank and spirited in her discussion, and by the time Aithne was finished talking to her the two were fast friends.

Reluctantly, Aithne admitted to herself that she had other things to do than talk to Mission Vao and Zaalbar. "You've been a huge help, Mission," she told the girl warmly. "I hope we see you again. But I'll be going now."

Mission looked slightly disappointed. Aithne could tell that, friendly and capable as the girl seemed, not many people took the trouble to talk to her. "You're going?" She shrugged, pretending it was no big deal. "Yeah, this dive is pretty boring. No action around here." She stood from where she'd been sitting at Carth and Aithne's table. "Come on, Big Z, let's go."

Zaalbar, who had been eating more or less steadily since the beginning of the conversation, complained /But I haven't finished eating!/

Mission threw her hands up in exasperation. "Can't you think about something besides your stomach for five minutes?" she lamented. "C'mon, we'll go see if there's something good to eat at the Bek base."

"I like her," Aithne commented, watching Mission and Zaalbar leave the cantina.

"She's a good kid," Carth agreed, a little wistfully. Aithne thought she saw a flash of remembrance in his eyes, and wondered briefly whether he had any kids of his own, but then the flash was gone.

"Let's see if there's anything else to do here before we head to the Bek base." Aithne said.

"What now? Are we stalking the kid?" Carth asked incredulously.

"No, Carth," Aithne sighed. "But the gangs are in a war. They look for every bit of salvage, every advantage they can find against one another. An escape pod, containing possible Republic hostages, would be number one on the gang's 'to investigate' list. And I am NOT going to ask the Vulkars for help."

"Good point," Carth acknowledged. "They'd probably just try to kill us."

Aithne looked around the cantina. Carth sat back, waiting. Before they left, Aithne talked to the bounty office about possible criminals she could take out, both for credits and to boost her reputation. She was also able to settle a stupid bounty some misogynist jerk had taken out on a girl for defending herself from his unwanted advances with a few well-chosen words to the jerk in question. It was a little thing, but there was too much injustice in the galaxy. Aithne liked to fix it where she could.

When she had finished all the business she could she returned to Carth. "Let's go see Gadon," she said. "Maybe he can tell us something new. But unless he can, I don't think there's much more we can do today."

Carth checked his chrono worriedly. "You're right," he said. "It's getting on towards four now. Let's go." He led the way away from the music and mist of the cantina.

The Bek base turned out to be located just a block away. Aithne had relatively little trouble talking the doorkeeper into letting them in. The Bek base was clean and organized-looking compared to the rest of the Lower City. Beks walked around quietly, greeting one another with a friendly word or clap on the back. Aithne knew immediately she'd chosen correctly in approaching the Beks for help. Across the room, a powerful-looking, dark-skinned man stood behind a desk. He had an air of command, and Aithne knew without asking anyone that this was Gadon Thek. She walked over purposefully, but a few feet away, she heard the distinctive sound of a blaster being cocked and turned to see a purple Twi'lek woman aiming a blaster rifle square at her heart.

"Hold it right there," the woman growled. "Who are you and what is your business with Gadon?"

Gadon turned inquisitively towards the disturbance, and though his eyes were indeed the milky blue of the blind, Aithne got the impression he could see her. Looking closer, she detected ocular implants, and knew that he could at least see her and Carth's outline and heat signatures. He held up a hand at his bodyguard.

"Calm down, Zaerdra," he said to the woman, who continued to hold her rifle trained on Aithne. "Nobody is going to try anything here in the middle of our own base. It would be a suicide mission!"

"You're too trusting, Gadon," said Zaerdra. "Brejik and his Vulkars want you dead. Anyone we don't know is a potential threat, and it's my job to make sure you're safe!"

"You have a point," Aithne told Zaerdra. "Luckily, I am not here to assassinate anyone. I'm not stupid. I have the highest respect for your abilities." She bowed deferentially to Zaerdra, who relaxed fractionally, but did not lower her blaster. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Aithne Morrigan. This man with me is Carth Onasi. We need your help."

Zaerdra remained tense. Gadon noticed she hadn't lowered her blaster. He appeared annoyed. "Do you want us to start attacking strangers on sight, Zaerdra, like the Vulkars do? I will never let it come to that! Now step aside and let them pass."

Zaerdra frowned, but nodded and lowered her weapon. "As you wish." Turning to Aithne and Carth the Twi'lek said, "you can speak to Gadon if you want, Ms. Morrigan, but I've got my eye on you! You try anything and you'll be vaporized before you can say Vulkar spy!"

"I wouldn't expect anything less," murmured Aithne, bowing again. She walked over slowly to the desk, and Gadon looked at her, trying to take her measure.

"You'll have to forgive Zaerdra," he said finally. "Ever since Brejik and the Vulkars began this war against us, she's been a little overzealous in her security duties. The problems with the Sith haven't helped things. Zaerdra seems to forget that I know how to look after myself!" This last bit Gadon directed to his bodyguard in a severe tone. "Now, how can I help you?"

Aithne took a deep breath, suddenly nervous. She was about to be more frank than she had been with anyone on Taris yet. Stepping forward boldly and swallowing, she declared, "I need information on those Republic escape pods that crashed in the Upper City."

Gadon started. Whatever he'd been expecting her to say, that clearly had not been it. He looked thoughtful, suddenly, and his gaze flickered to Carth momentarily. "The escape pods? You know, I've heard the Sith have been asking around the Upper City about them as well…but you don't look like you're with the Sith," he added meaningfully.

Zaerdra, not understanding, snapped, "They might be spies, Gadon. They might be working for the Sith!"

Gadon shook his head. "Calm down, Zaerdra. If the Sith thought we knew anything useful they'd have a battalion of troops kicking down our door. No, I think this off-worlder has her own agenda."

Aithne nodded, eyeing the Bek leader with respect. He was shrewd. "Don't worry," she addressed Zaerdra, "I'm not working for the Sith."

Gadon sighed. "I suppose I could tell you what I know. It's not like it could do any harm to me or my gang…" he began, gesturing at her weapons then grinning. "But it might cause problems for the Vulkars, and that's okay in my book."

"Mine, too," said Aithne savagely. "They tried to kill us so many times on the way over here, I'd positively enjoy causing them problems."

Gadon nodded in approval. "The Vulkars stripped those pods clean within hours after they landed. It's too bad we didn't get there first, considering what my spies reported the Vulkars found. A female Republic officer named Bastila survived the crash. We Beks don't believe in intergalactic slavery, but the Vulkars aren't so picky. They took her prisoner."

Carth clenched his jaw, turning white. Terrible images swirled in Aithne's head of all the things that might be happening to 'the key to the entire Republic war effort.'

"We have to get in there and rescue her!" Aithne burst out without thinking. She bit her lip, realizing she'd said too much. Gadon nodded in satisfaction. He smiled.

"Normally the Vulkars would take a captured slave and sell them for a nice profit to Davik or an off-world slaver. But a Republic officer is no ordinary catch," he explained.

Carth touched Aithne's shoulder, whispering lowly, "They still think Bastila is just a Republic officer. That could work to our advantage. Maybe she'll even figure out a way to escape from the Vulkar base on her own."

"I'm blind, not deaf, son," said Gadon. "No," he said, reacting to Carth's alarm, "I don't want to know who Bastila really is or how important she is to whatever your mission may be. But you should know that she's too valuable to leave with the Vulkar scum at the base. Brejik's probably got your Republic friend hidden away somewhere safe until the big swoop race. You'll never find her."

Aithne relaxed a little knowing that at least Bastila was being kept safe from Vulkar lust. But the swoop race comment puzzled her. She looked at Gadon, noting a quirk at the corner of his mouth. Unless she was mistaken, he already had a plan. "There has to be some way we can help her," she said, hoping to draw him out.

"I'm afraid your friend had become a pawn in Brejik's game to take over the Lower City. He's offered her up as the Vulkar's share of the prize in the annual swoop gang race. By putting up such a valuable prize Brejik hopes to win the loyalty of some of the smaller gangs. Their numbers will allow him to finally destroy me and my followers."

"So it's in your best interests for us to rescue Bastila," remarked Aithne, thinking quickly. "How do you propose we go about it? We can't fight all the gangs!"

Gadon grinned, obviously pleased she'd caught on. "The only hope you have of rescuing Bastila is to somehow win the big season opener of the swoop race."

"And how are you going to help me with this?" Aithne asked, waiting to hear her next assignment.

Gadon, if possible, smiled even more broadly. "Un-uh-uh," he said, teasingly. "I _might_ be able to help you with this."

Aithne grimaced. "Ok, what do I have to do?"

"The swoop race is for Lower City gangs only," explained Gadon. "I might be able to sponsor you as a rider for the Hidden Beks this year. If you win the race, you'll win your friend's freedom. But first you have to do something for me."

"Besides making sure the Vulkars don't get the loyalty of the smaller gangs?" Aithne asked, a bit peeved.

"I don't know that you'll win," Gadon pointed out. Aithne smiled dangerously. Carth, beside her, flinched. "My mechanics have developed an accelerator for a swoop engine. A bike with the accelerator installed can beat any other swoop out there! But the Vulkars stole the prototype from us. They plan to use it to guarantee a victory in this year's swoop race. I need you to break into their base and steal it back."

Aithne frowned. Gadon was clever, that much was already apparent, and that he knew how to maneuver. Mission had said he was a good guy, but she was from off-world. She wouldn't put it past him to manipulate her as a piece in his war.

"Promise me two things, Gadon Thek," she said in a hard, no-nonsense voice. Gadon stiffened.

"What?" he asked, suspiciously.

"First, swear that the prototype belongs to your gang. Promise that, on your honor, I won't be the original thief." She lifted her eyes to Gadon's sightless gaze, bold and unafraid.

"I, Gadon Thek, swear on my honor that my mechanics invented this prototype accelerator and that by stealing it from the Vulkars, you, Aithne Morrigan, would only be returning it to its original owners," promised Gadon levelly, in a serious tone. Aithne considered his words for a minute, then nodded. She believed him.

"Next, promise me that when I bring you the accelerator, once your gang wins, you will hand over Bastila to me and my companions, a free woman," Aithne finished.

"This, too, I swear."

Aithne extended her hand, and Gadon shook it. "Then we have a bargain. Now, how am I supposed to get inside the Vulkar base?"

Gadon nodded. "Getting into the Vulkar base won't be easy. The front doors are locked tight. But I know someone who might be able to get you in the back way- Mission Vao!"

"Mission!" exclaimed Aithne in excitement. "I like that kid!"

"You know her?" Gadon asked, surprised.

"Carth and I met her in the cantina an hour or so ago. Yes, I can see how she might be useful." Aithne mused.

"You can't be serious!" burst out Zaerdra, who had been steadily turning a violent shade of violet since Gadon suggested Aithne look up Mission. "She's just a kid- how is she supposed to help them with this?" She looked amazed and slightly fearful. Aithne thought that Zaerdra probably knew the kid well, since Mission had talked so casually about hanging out at the Bek base.

Gadon shook his head, smiling. "Mission's explored every step of every back alley in the Lower City. Plus, she knows the Undercity sewers better than anyone. If anyone can get inside the Vulkar base, it's her."

"Oh, good. I did say I wanted to see her again," said Aithne happily. "Where can I find her?"

"She and her Wookiee friend Zaalbar are always looking to stir up a little excitement," said Gadon. "They like to go exploring in the Undercity, despite the dangers. Your best bet is to look for her in the Undercity. But you'll need some way past the Sith guard post at the elevator."

"We have a Sith uniform to disguise Carth," said Aithne.

Zaerdra smirked, realizing the role Aithne had to have played. Aithne winked at her. Gadon, however, shook his head. "First of all, no Sith in his right mind would go to the Undercity on a date, and secondly, security here is much tighter. You'll need the proper papers to get past him. Luckily, my gang ambushed one of the Sith patrols headed down to the Lower City. They never made it, and their security papers fell into my hands." He gestured at some official-looking documents on the desk in front of him. "Since we're working together now, I suppose I could give them to you in exchange for your uniform. With the Sith security papers, you won't need a disguise anyway."

Carth handed Aithne his sack of armor hastily. "It's ugly armor. No big loss," he joked.

"Ok. Apparently we're trading the uniform for the papers," laughed Aithne, sliding the armor over to Gadon and smiling at Carth. "I like orange better on you, anyway," she told him.

"Good choice," said Gadon, chuckling a little at the exchange between Carth and Aithne. "Thanks for the uniform. You won't need it with these security papers anyway," he added, sliding the papers over to Aithne, who put them in her pack.

Aithne smiled savagely at Gadon, shaking her head. "Nope. I'll be back when I get the prototype accelerator!"

Without another word, she turned on her heel and strode out. Behind her she heard Gadon saying something to Carth, and Carth making some hasty disclaimer. Gadon's deep laughter echoed as Carth ran up behind her.

"What'd he say?" she asked him as he drew even.

Carth's hand went to his head nervously. "Uh…nothing important," he stammered. Aithne raised an eyebrow at him. "So what's the plan?" he asked.

Aithne considered pressing for details, but decided to let it pass. "Let's head back to the apartment," she said. "We'll have some supper, and then hit the sack. Wake me up early again tomorrow, and we'll set out to look for Mission in the Undercity."

"Whatever you say, beautiful," Carth drawled.

"Can it, Republic," Aithne growled, coloring slightly all the same. Carth grinned. Aithne, catching his gaze, froze. _He is _so _cute. _It was such a pity he was so paranoid and secretive. Tossing her head, she quickened her pace slightly. Carth restrained a chuckle, barely.

The next morning they were in the Lower City bright and early. They had to pass a set of Lower City apartments to get to the elevator to the Undercity, though, and in front of the apartments there was a bit of a to-do. One of Davik's agents was harassing a couple of Black Vulkars about their tribute to the crime lord. The Vulkars were being stubborn, and so the agent called out a mercenary. There was nothing too strange about all that, but when the Vulkars caught sight of the merc, instead of fighting him, they paid the agent and ran. If they had possessed tails, the tails would have been between their legs. Aithne took a closer look at the merc. Noting a tattoo on his upper bicep, she bit back an exclamation.

"The merc's Mandalorian!" she breathed to Carth. Carth's fists tightened, and he reached for his blaster. "Don't bother, Onasi. You'd lose." Aithne advised. "He's big and bad, even for a Mandalorian."

Aithne surveyed the Mandalorian, who was now standing alone in the corridor, as if brooding over something. He was well over six feet tall, with scars that crisscrossed all over his body. His gray hair was severely trimmed in a military cut, but he wore ordinary clothes. His muscles bulged, though, and it was plain that even if he no longer burned worlds, he had not gotten lazy.

"C'mon," she whispered to Carth. "Let's go meet him."

"Are you crazy?" Carth asked angrily.

"Probably," Aithne admitted, mouth quirking upwards. But she'd noticed the dissatisfied expression on the mercenary's face, and she had this odd feeling that she should talk to him.

Walking up cautiously, Aithne hailed the gray-haired merc. He looked down at her. "Huh?" he asked, shaking himself. He glanced in the direction the Vulkars and agent had gone. "Those Vulkars are dumber than a Coruscant granite slug!" he growled, mostly to himself. "They actually think being in that pathetic little gang of theirs makes them important." He sneered. "Gadon keeps his Hidden Beks in line, but Brejik's getting dreams of grandeur," he informed Aithne. "If Davik's smart, he'll slap that young punk back down."

"Who are you?" asked Aithne.

The mercenary looked at Aithne, suddenly realizing he didn't know her. "I'm someone you don't want to get on the bad side of," he growled, moving to leave. "And I'm not one for small talk. I don't have time to stick around here anyway. Davik's got me working on a special assignment."

He shouldered his way past Aithne without a backward glance. Aithne muttered, mostly to herself, "I don't think we've seen the last of him." She didn't know how she knew it, but somehow she knew she'd be meeting the Mandalorian merc again.

She stared after him, and wordlessly, Carth led the way past the apartments to the elevator to take them down into the blackness of the Undercity.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So I've been rewriting this, and I've found so far that it has involved adding character development and making responses more realistic. I HAVE deleted a bunch of pointless sidequests (Dia, bounty-hunting, etc.) but ones more true to Aithne's character stick around (Rukil, rhakghoul serum). I'm generally keeping about five chapters ahead of my posting in the revisions, because I'm writing another story and keeping on top of everything else at the same time. So if it takes me four or five days or a week and a half, don't worry. I'm not really the type to wait months between chapters. **

**On that note though, who has an opinion on Dantooine omissions? Originally I'd written down all the sidequests. Now I'm omitting the Mandalorians and Elise's droid. I'm going back and forth on the Sandral/Matale feud and aiding Balook though. What do you think? Should I take out both? Leave in the Romeo and Juliet knockoff but cut the court case? Leave in the court case but cut the star-crossed lovers? Or leave in both? **

**Please give me your opinion, on this chapter and on the chapters to come. Leave a review! Honest, thoughtful criticism is always welcome and makes me better. Honest, thoughtful praise makes my day.**

**May the Force be with you,**

**LMSharp**


	5. Travels in the Underworld

**Disclaimer: This Chapter is 25 pages long. But its content is still placed in a universe that I do not own.**

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><p>Chapter Five<p>

They were stopped as they exited the elevator into the Undercity by two beggars. They stank to high heaven, as if they hadn't showered in months, and they were far too thin. The second-and-third-hand rags they were wearing hung off their frames. But none of that seemed to take away from their ability to obnoxiously demand credits for Aithne and Carth's passage in the elevator.

"Who are you people?" asked Aithne after Carth had expressed his disgust.

The beggars explained, more dramatically than they needed to, that they were Outcasts; that everyone in the Undercity was a criminal or descended from one; and that all Outcasts were doomed to stay in the Undercity in a life of poverty and danger forever, denied access to the world above.

Aithne felt for them, of course, but her face betrayed nothing. She gave them a long, measuring look. Under her long, judging stare, the beggars began to squirm. Finally, she reached for her purse and handed the beggars a few pieces. "Fine. Here are twenty credits."

One of the beggars looked to his fellow in disbelief. "Credits?" He punched his fist into the air. "We have credits, my brother! Now we can buy food and medicine!"

"Save your credits," advised Aithne coldly. "Buy some self-respect. It will take you a lot farther."

Carth eyed her appraisingly as the beggars ran off. "You could've just run them off, you know," he said.

"I could have," Aithne said quietly. "But desperation will drive people to ends you wouldn't want to see, Carth. Maybe if I hadn't given them the money they would have attacked the next people off the elevator. Maybe now that they have the credits they'll make something of them- invest in a useful skill they could sell or something."

"Maybe. They're not the first people you've helped since we got to Taris. There was that woman from the bounty office, too, and the man in the debt of the Exchange in the Upper City," Carth observed.

Aithne was slightly embarrassed. "I always try to leave planets a little better than I found them," she explained, "Whether I'm saving the galaxy at the time or not."

Carth regarded her a moment, then inclined his head. He looked a little guilty, and Aithne wondered if he was starting to trust her.

An Outcast woman came up and introduced herself as Shaleena. She seemed anxious to repair the bad first impression the beggars had given Carth and Aithne of her home. She directed Carth and Aithne to Gendar, the village leader, and Rukil, the storyteller. She assured them that those two men could answer all their questions about both the Undercity and Mission Vao. Aithne took a cordial leave of the woman, and left to find the two wise men of the village.

Looking about, she was surprised to realize that the village was much cleaner than the Lower City. It was cold, and dark, though, and people were quiet, as if they'd lost their need to talk. Looking around, Aithne saw an emotion calmer than desperation on most of their faces, but somehow, more unsettling. It was hopelessness.

A pair of children walked past slowly. Their cheeks were hollow, their pupils dilated from trying to see in this dark land where the suns never came. Aithne's throat felt dry. Her eyes stung, and she wiped angrily at the tears that threatened there.

A hand patted her arm awkwardly. "You can't save every child in the galaxy," Carth told her, but his voice came out strained.

The strain, more than the words, made Aithne turn to look at him. His face, too, was haunted. The suffering of the citizens in the Undercity was reflected in his face. The tears spilled over, then, and Aithne weakly hid her face in his shoulder. He tensed a moment in surprise, but then put his arms around her. They tightened after a moment. Down here, Aithne supposed he needed the comfort as much as she did; the air hung so heavy with despair it was almost suffocating. It was their first hug, Aithne realized, and she grew a little stronger. She pulled away gently, and smiled shakily at Carth, but as they walked through the sparsely spaced tents, she retained his hand.

As they approached the far side of the village, Aithne saw a man clap the shoulder of another man who was pale with grief. The first man surveyed the new tent he'd just pitched, and ruffled the hair of the tiny child the second man held in his arms. From Shaleena's description, Aithne knew the first man was Gendar, leader of the village. As he walked away from the pale man and his daughter, Aithne approached him.

"Who is that man?" she asked.

"That's Cale," the village-leader said, sighing wearily. "His wife and son were killed in a rhakghoul attack yesterday while out scouting for supplies. "I just moved him and his daughter to a smaller family tent. I am Gendar, leader of this village," he finished, holding out his hand to Aithne.

"I'm Aithne Morrigan," replied the same, shaking Gendar's outstretched hand.

"I'm Carth," said the pilot, taking his turn to shake the village leader's hand.

Gendar asked them how he could be of service, and was able to tell them a few things. First, he was able to confirm Gadon's honesty: the Black Vulkars had indeed been the first ones to Bastila's escape pod. When Aithne then asked about Mission Vao and Zaalbar, Gendar told them that the two could usually be found in the sewers, and gave them directions.

"Thank you, Gendar," Aithne said gratefully at the conversation's end, bowing. "You have been of great help to us."

"It is my pleasure to help," replied Gendar, also bowing.

Aithne then crossed over to a nearby tent, where a very old man sat on a low stool. She asked him his name, and he hit her with a load of gibberish about the herald of prophecy and harbingers of false messages. Aithne blinked, stepping back slightly.

"Careful," Carth said, as she nearly ran into him. "This one might be crazy enough to actually be dangerous."

Aithne asked him what he meant, tentatively. The man calmed slightly. He introduced himself as Rukil, and explained his apprentice was missing, that she had gone scouting for information on the Promised Land, a fabled self-sufficient place in the Undercity, free from rhakghouls and poverty, where all the inhabitants of the village could live in comfort. His apprentice, whose name was Malya, had been missing for three days. He asked Aithne if she would look for Malya.

"I will do this for you, Rukil," Aithne promised before she thought.

Rukil bid her farewell, and Carth pulled her to the side. "Are you crazy?" he snapped. "We don't have time for this!"

"We'll make time!" Aithne snapped back. "Carth," she pleaded, "I may not be able to save every child, but I can at least help a worried old man. Help me with this, please. We'll go out scouting- all you have to do is help me keep an eye out for Malya."

Carth, seeing her supplicating expression, caved. "Fine. But searching for Mission and the prototype accelerator is our number one priority."

"Of course," Aithne said, smiling. Slowly, reluctantly, as if it were against his will, Carth smiled back.

Carth and Aithne headed around to the gate that separated the village from the rest of the Undercity, where rhakghouls roamed at free range. An agitated woman stood at the gate, pounding on it in vain.

"Run, Hendar, run!" she cried.

A man, panting, ran up to the gate, just outside the village. "Open the gate!" he called, looking behind him nervously.

Aithne caught sight of a lone creature in the distance, but swiftly closing.

The gatekeeper refused to open the gate, crying regretfully that the rhakghoul was too close.

"The mutants will kill him if you don't!" cried the woman, tears starting in her eyes, her fists bruised from pounding on the gate.

"And if I open the gate, they will kill us all!" retorted the gatekeeper.

The woman turned to Aithne. "Make him open the gate," she begged. "My husband will die!"

Aithne straightened. "Open the gate," she said assertively. "I will kill the rhakghouls."

"You'd risk your life for a stranger?" asked the gatekeeper incredulously. "You are brave, up-worlder. I will open the gate, but you must hurry."

He opened the gate, and Carth and Aithne raced forward. Immediately, they were greeted with the slobbering, white sinuous mass that was the rhakghoul. Its teeth stuck out of its wide mouth at odd angles, gleaming with poison in the dark. Its eyes were dark and overly large in its lumpy head, and contained not a trace of either mercy or intelligence. Aithne shivered. As she raised her vibroblade to slice at the thing, it sprang at her. Aithne closed her eyes, preparing to feel its foul teeth slice into her face. She heard three shots, and opened her eyes to see the bloody mass of what used to be the rhakghoul dead at her feet. She looked over her shoulder to see Carth's blaster still raised.

"Thank you," she murmured, feeling faint. She stumbled, and Carth's arm went around her back, keeping her from falling.

She heard the sound of the gate being lowered and raised once more, and turned to see Hendar and the woman embracing joyfully on the other side. She waved to the gatekeeper, and jogged unsteadily into the dark of the Undercity.

"You ok to keep going?" Carth called, worry lacing his voice.

"Yeah," Aithne said. "They're just so…so…horrible!"

Carth shivered. "I know."

They turned towards the sewers, and suddenly a figure a few inches shorter than Aithne bowled into her. Aithne straightened, and looked right into the tearful eyes of Mission Vao.

"Please!" Mission sobbed and panted at the same time. "You have to help me! Nobody else is going to help me. Even the Beks won't help me. But I can't just leave him there-he's my friend! You'll help me, won't you?" She looked up trustingly at Aithne, and Aithne's heart clenched. She gripped Mission's arms reassuringly.

"Slow down, Mission. What's wrong?"

"It's Zaalbar!" cried Mission, "He's in trouble-big trouble! We have to help him. If we don't they'll sell him into slavery!"

Aithne's eyes hardened. She hated slavers worse than the Sith. "Zaalbar? You mean your Wookiee friend? What happened?"

Mission took a few deep breaths. "Me…me and Zaalbar were just wandering around here in the Undercity," she explained, slightly calmer. "You know, looking for stuff we could find, just kind of exploring. We do it all the time."

Carth nodded. "I guess with a Wookiee at your side you've got to figure you can handle the odd rhakghoul attack." His words were inconsequential, but his tone was calming, and Mission nodded shakily.

"Only this time, they were waiting for us," she said. "Gamorrean slave hunters. We didn't even have a chance to run. Big Z threw himself at them, and he roared for me to run!" Tears started in her eyes again. "I…I took off; I figured Zaalbar would be right behind me. But there were too many of them- he couldn't get away. They're going to sell him to a slaver, I just know it!" she sobbed.

Aithne tightened her hold on Mission's arms. "Listen here, no one is going to sell Zaalbar. Do you know where they took him?"

Mission shook her head uncertainly. "I don't know for sure, but those Gamorreans like to hang out in the sewers." Her face hardened. "The stink reminds them of home, I guess. That's probably where they took Big Z."

Aithne nodded. "Now Mission, listen. After I help you get Zaalbar back, you have to get me inside the Vulkar base. It's important."

Mission smiled. She stepped back and shook Aithne's hand. "It's a deal-as soon as we get Big Z back, I'll show you a way into that Vulkar base! Now come on- we have to find Zaalbar before they sell him to slavers, or worse!"

Aithne turned to Carth. "Flyboy, Priority Number One now is to rescue Zaalbar from slavers."

Carth nodded wearily. "I don't know how I keep up," he muttered.

"Mission, take a couple of blasters from Carth's pack," Aithne instructed. "He always keeps a few extra. You're going to need them. You know how to shoot?"

"Yes, Aithne." Mission replied. "Ever since I was ten."

"Take out one of Aithne's spare combat suits, too," Carth advised. "Trouble seems to follow us."

"We'll turn around while you change."

Mission nodded. In a few seconds, she was ready to move. "I can take one of your packs," she offered to Carth, who was carrying two. They'd stocked up heading for the Undercity. They'd even bought an extra pack at a merchant's stand. Carth handed her one, and she shouldered it without comment.

"Let's go."

Mission led Carth and Aithne straight to the sewers. They were immediately confronted by no less than four rhakghouls. Carth and Aithne took their usual back to back positions, and Mission stayed at the door, sniping rhakghouls and hurling Twi'lek abuse at them. Between Mission's sniping, Carth's blasting, and Aithne's slashing, the rhakghouls were soon dead on the floor. Aithne turned to check Mission for injuries, but the Twi'lek was fine. She stared at them, wide-eyed.

"Wow," Mission breathed. "Did you guys practice that?"

"What?" asked Carth.

"She was like, swoosh, and you were like, bam! And you were both just right there, and neither of you said anything to the other!"

"Are you talking about the way we fought?" Aithne asked, puzzled.

Mission nodded in admiration. "It was perfect. You moved like you were one person, you know?"

"No, we haven't practiced."

"Wow," Mission said again, looking at Carth and Aithne with increased respect.

Aithne smiled. "Come on."

Going mostly by instinct, Aithne led them right. A Gamorrean sentry proved her guess accurate. After they'd dealt with him, they dodged the sound of several heavy feet to a door to the right and went through a door on the left.

"Ah!" she cried in satisfaction, pointing at a rusted droid.

"What?" Mission asked, puzzled.

"These old droids can often be found in places like this," Aithne said, wrinkling her nose at the smell and emphasizing the 'this', slightly. "We can repair him and program him to attack those Gamorreans over there." Carth nodded in approval. "Hand me your pack, Mission," Aithne instructed. "Our repair parts are in there."

She spent a few minutes tinkering with the droid, which then left to attack the Gamorreans next door to them. Aithne heard the sound of grunting pig-men, and turned to Carth and Mission. "There," she said, smiling brightly. "Now we talk while Rusty there does our dirty work. Mission, can you wait across the room, please? I need to talk with Carth for a bit." Scowling, the teenager obeyed.

"You need to talk, huh?" Carth asked. "Fair enough. What do you want to talk about?"

Aithne crossed her arms and widened her stance, preparing to be stubborn. "I want to talk about you," she said, "And me, and why exactly it is that you don't trust me."

Carth sighed. "I knew you wouldn't understand where I was coming from. Let me try to explain."

Aithne raised her eyebrow, waiting.

"You're probably one of the most skilled women I've ever met. Your ideas have gotten us this far and I'm lucky you're here to help me, no question. But that doesn't mean I'm going to stop watching you or being wary. I'm just not built that way. Period."

Aithne looked at him coolly. "Not built that way?" she asked, "That sounds like an excuse."

Carth reddened and shifted guiltily. "Maybe so, but I've been betrayed before by people I…" his blush deepened. "Well, it won't happen again, that's all," he said, in a harsh tone.

Aithne threw her arms out, as annoyed by what he said as by what he hadn't. "So you want some guarantee I won't betray you? What will it take for you to trust me?"

Carth looked down. "I don't know that you'll betray me," he admitted, then looked levelly at her. "But there are no guarantees. Not for you, not for me." Seeing her redden with anger, he held up his hands in supplication. "You don't have to take it personally."

That comment was the last straw. Standing on tiptoe to see him better, Aithne growled, "Don't tell me not to take it personally, you hairless Wookiee!"

Carth laughed aloud. She looked so menacing, but honestly. "Hairless Wookiee?" he asked in amusement. "Alright, sister, just…just…calm down before your head explodes."

Aithne pushed him back lightly. "We'll just see whose head explodes, you….you ungrateful monkey lizard!" she spat.

Carth laughed in her face. "Is that your idea of an insult?" he asked lightly, beckoning. "Come on, sister, take your best shot."

Aithne spluttered with rage. "Drooling Bomarr cast-off!" she shouted, and Mission looked over from the corpse she'd been examining and shook her head in pity.

Carth put a hand over his stomach, doubling over as if in pain. "Oh, ouch," he quipped. "I think you hurt my man-feelings with that one."

"Don't you dare patronize me, Carth Onasi!" Aithne yelled, eyes flashing.

"Wouldn't think of it," Carth said. He gazed at her, completely calm. "Feel better?"

Aithne thought about it, then blushed and looked down. Amazingly…she did. "Maybe a little," she admitted grudgingly.

"Good. Then maybe we can talk reasonably about this," Carth said. "All I've been trying to say is that this isn't personal. If you were smart, you wouldn't trust anyone either…not me, not Bastila, and especially not yourself."

Aithne had a sudden flash of insight. No, Carth didn't trust her, but what was really bothering him was how much he _wanted_ to. Suddenly she was much less angry with him."Ahh…" she said. "So you don't trust yourself, is that it?"

Carth looked at her, and she saw for a moment that she'd actually managed to annoy him. For a second, too, she saw a flash of that pain she'd seen earlier. But he lowered his soldier face like a mask. "I don't need to be analyzed, thanks. Can we just get back to business?"

Aithne put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" she asked gently. Carth jerked away, as if burned by her touch.

"No!" he snapped. "I don't want to talk about it! What I want is to save the galaxy…if that's even possible." Aithne held back a laugh with difficulty. He didn't want much. Carth continued, not looking at her. "Why is whether or not I trust you, or anyone, so important to you?" he asked. "Why…why do you even care?"

"Because you're my friend, idiot." Aithne replied. "I hate to see you like this. You'll burn yourself from the inside if you hold it all in like you're doing."

Carth glared at her. "We don't have time for this, so can we please just…drop it?"

Aithne crossed her arms again, matching him glare for glare. "What do you think?" she asked sarcastically.

"Fine! Can we pick it up later, then, if you really must? I…want to get underway." Aithne nodded. She cocked her head, but still heard the sounds of Gamorrean meeting droid attack.

"Alright then," she said. "Mission, come over here," she called.

Mission trotted over. "Here, I found this," she said. She held out a journal to Aithne. Aithne skimmed the datapad. She raised her eyebrows. It contained a bunch of jumbled up clues about the Promised Land. Apparently it had belonged to Rukil's grandfather.

"Thanks, Mission," she said.

"Can you and Carth fight some more?" Mission asked impudently. "That was better than a dueling match!"

"You weren't listening, were you?" asked Aithne at the horrified expression on Carth's face.

" 'Course I was," Mission scoffed. "That's the only way I'd find out anything, right? You guys were loud enough to be heard all the way in the Upper City, anyways." She held her arms up at Aithne and Carth's glares. "Ah, don't worry. You guys didn't say anything, anyway."

Aithne struggled with herself, then laughed. "Unfortunately, that is very true. Anyway, Mission, can you tell me some more about yourself?"

Mission's eyes widened. "Really? You want to know about me?" she asked incredulously. Aithne nodded. "Nobody's ever really been interested in me before," the Twi'lek said in wonder. "What do you want to know?"

Carth appeared to be getting over his annoyance in his curiosity about this odd addition to their party, for he asked, "Well, how did you meet Zaalbar, for starters? It's a little strange to be running around with a Wookiee on Taris."

"Big Z's my family, you know?" replied Mission. "My parents…well, I guess they're dead. It was just me on my own until the day I saw Zaalbar in the Lower City. I could tell right away he was in trouble. That was before the gang wars were out of hand, but even then the Vulkars were scum. A few of them were hassling Big Z, trying to pick a fight- but he wasn't looking for trouble."

Aithne raised an eyebrow doubtfully. "Who'd want to pick a fight with a Wookiee?" she asked, disbelief in her voice.

Mission rolled her eyes expressively, laughing a little. "Hey, no one said the Vulkars were smart. But there were three of them, so maybe they figured they could handle him. I don't know." She continued. "Anyway, I don't like the Vulkars at the best of times, and when I saw them picking on this poor Wookiee, all alone on a strange planet, overwhelmed by the big city, I just lost it. I screamed out 'Leave him alone, you core-slimes!', and charged right at them. One of them saw me coming and slapped me so hard he just about knocked me cold."

Aithne tensed, thinking about what could have happened. "You're lucky he didn't fry you with a blaster," she said severely.

Mission stiffened, eyes flashing. "Hey, I don't need a lecture from you. You ain't my mother! I knew what I was doing," she protested. "Those Vulkars didn't scare me. They're nothing but cowards! I knew how to deal with them. Of course…I never got the chance," she admitted. "I guess Zaalbar didn't like seeing me get smacked around. He let out this howl and yanked that Vulkar a meter up off the ground and held him there by his throat!" Mission chuckled, remembering the expression on that Rodian's face.

"What did the other two do?" Aithne prompted. Mission laughed.

"The other two screamed and ran off. Can't say I blame them. The first time you see an angry Wookiee up close it isn't a pretty sight." She shook her head expressively. "I thought Zaalbar was going to rip that punk's arms off and beat him to death with his own fists. The Vulkar was so scared he fainted. Or maybe Big Z's breath just knocked him out." She giggled. "I keep telling Zaalbar to brush those choppers of his, but he never listens." She patted Aithne on the back, adopting a mocking maternal expression. "Just stay upwind when he's speaking and you'll be fine. Anyway, I knew those Vulkars would be back with friends so I grabbed Zaalbar and we took off. Ever since then we've been a team. We look out for each other, you know?"

She shivered. Aithne patted her on the back. "We'll get him back, Mission, don't worry." She changed the subject. "How did Zaalbar end up on Taris?" she asked.

Mission shrugged. "He was fleeing some kind of trouble back on Kashyyyk. That's all I know, really. Big Z doesn't like to talk about it. In case you didn't notice," she confided, "he's the strong, silent type."

"Oh, we noticed," put in Carth. Mission smiled.

"It doesn't matter to me, though," she said to Aithne."I accept him for what he is, not what he was. Me and Zaalbar like to live in the present."

Aithne grinned. "That's sweet. One more thing," she said. "How did you survive before you met Zaalbar?"

Mission's smile vanished. "What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded, offended. "You think I can't take care of myself? I've got street smarts!" she declared proudly. "I know how to get by on my own. In fact," she informed Aithne, "I look out for Zaalbar more than he looks out for me, you know? Big Z's a bit too gullible to make it alone on the mean streets of the Lower City."

Aithne nodded solemnly, trying not to laugh. "We should get back to finding Zaalbar," she said, noting that the sounds of battle in the distance had ceased.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," said Mission. "Like I used to tell my brother, fast talk and slick words don't get the job done."

Aithne looked down sharply at the girl. "I didn't know you had a brother," she commented, interested in spite of herself.

Mission crossed her arms. "My brother's a touchy subject, you know?" said Mission in a hard, defensive voice. "It just so happens I don't really feel like talking about him right now. Nothing personal," she said. "Let's just get back to the business at hand, okay?"

Aithne nodded, knowing a minefield when she saw one. And as Mission had already proven, she, not Aithne, was the expert at disabling mines. Aithne figured Mission would talk when she was ready.

"C'mon then," Aithne said.

"How come she gets off easy?" Carth asked out of the side of his mouth as the group left the room.

"Because she doesn't have a problem with me," Aithne replied with some annoyance.

"Neither do I!" protested Carth. "I keep telling you, it's not personal. Actually, you're not that bad," he added softly.

"When you're not being a paranoid freak, neither are you," said Aithne.

Carth smiled crookedly. Aithne looked away. She did not need this.

The smell worsened as the group crossed to the room next door. Now and then, Aithne had to dodge streams of green, foul smelling sewage that cascaded from the ceiling in a rush and through the grating below her feet. Gamorrean bodies littered the floor. Aithne wrinkled her nose in distaste. The droid, still blue shielded and on patrol, passed by solemnly. Suddenly, Mission halted.

"Hmm," she said, in a tone that also stopped Carth and Aithne. "Look at this." She gestured towards a door on their left. "This is one of those old style manual locks," she explained, noting her companion's confusion. "No computer codes or nothing. The sewers is the only place you'll see one of these on Taris. You can't use conventional security spikes on these old locks, but don't worry. I've come across them before. I've rigged up a device that should do the trick."

"What would we do without you, Mission?" smiled Aithne as the teenager pulled out a little metal contraption and fiddled with the lock. The door opened, and out rushed a tall, hairy, nasty-smelling, but very much alive Wookiee.

/You're a sight for sore eyes, Mission!/ growled Zaalbar.

Mission beamed, rushing forward to embrace her best friend, who returned the hug with a care not to crush her, but obvious warmth. "I'm glad to see you, too, Big Z!" cried Mission. "You didn't think I'd forget about you?" she laughed. "Mission and Zaalbar-together forever!"

Zaalbar smiled with his eyes, the way Wookiees do, and caught sight of Aithne and Carth. His expression changed to one of curiosity. /Who's that with you?/ he asked.

Mission stepped back and indicated Carth and Aithne. "These are my new friends, Big Z. Without them I never could have got you out."

Aithne bowed modestly. /Good to meet you, Zaalbar,/ she growled in his native tongue. Carth and Mission both looked up, surprised. They hadn't realized she spoke Shyriiwook. /I'm Aithne Morrigan./

Zaalbar gave Aithne a long look. /You know the language of my people. That is rare, among your species. I am impressed./ Slowly, deliberately, Zaalbar lowered himself to kneel on the filthy sewer floor. Maintaining eye contact with Aithne, he said /You have saved me from a life of servitude and slavery. There is only one way I can ever repay such an act: I will swear a lifedebt to you./

A shiver ran down Aithne's spine as she looked down (though not very far) at the Wookiee kneeling in front of her. She felt as though something very important was happening. Stranger still, was the feeling that someone swearing loyalty to her was somehow right and familiar. Aithne shuddered. Mission's eyes widened. "A lifedebt?" she asked her friend, obviously concerned. "Are you sure about that, Big Z? Think about it carefully. You better be sure about this."

Zaalbar looked at Mission evenly, without rising. /I am sure, Mission. This is an issue of great importance to me/ he continued, now addressing all of the people in the room. His voice rose to fill the space. /Because of our great physical strength, Wookiees are being used as slave labor on our own homeworld. They see us as brutes and animals to be exploited. Over the years slavers have taken many of my people; we must always be on guard against raids against our villages. When the Gamorreans captured me, I thought I was doomed to a life of servitude./ His eyes found Aithne's again, and he met her gaze with a weight of gratitude and seriousness in his eyes that nearly crushed her. /I have been saved from such a fate, and the only way I can repay that is through a lifedebt./

Carth was silent, aware that something heavy was going on, even if he understood nothing of Zaalbar's speech. Mission was silent for a moment, too, then she looked directly at Aithne, her eyes hard with challenge.

"Big Z swearing a Wookiee lifedebt to you. Wow- this is major. Do you realize what this means?"

Aithne shuddered, sure she wouldn't like knowing exactly what it did mean. She wasn't sure she could bear the responsibility. "It's some kind of loyalty vow, isn't it?" she ventured.

Mission nodded slowly. "A lifedebt is the most solemn vow a Wookiee can make. It means he'll stay by your side for the rest of your life- wherever you go, whatever you do, Zaalbar will be with you."

_Don't mess him up, _Aithne heard as plainly as if the girl had said it. She nodded, slowly. She knew she could not refuse this.

Zaalbar continued, saying, /In the presence of you all I swear my lifedebt. Forever after will I be by your side, Aithne Morrigan. May my vow be as strong as the roots of the great Wroshyr trees of Kashyyyk."

Aithne nodded, feeling a deep respect for the Wookiee. Here he was, kneeling before her, and it only increased his dignity. /I am honored to accept your vow/ she said, with feeling. She gave him her hands and, straining against his bulk, helped him to rise.

Mission ruined the moment, swinging her arm around Aithne's shoulders. "I guess this means you're stuck with me too," she said, sounding not at all apologetic. "Wherever Big Z goes, I'm going. I almost lost him once. It's not going to happen again."

"Mission, I'd love to have you, but both of you need to know what we're doing," Aithne said carefully.

"Can we trust them?" put in Carth, looking from the Twi'lek to the Wookiee skeptically.

Aithne looked from one to the other of them, considering. "I think we can," she said finally. "And I want to. I like them both already." Mission beamed at her. Aithne nodded at Carth. "I'm going to trust them," she told him. "With my life, with Bastila's, and with yours."

Carth tightened his jaw, but nodded, accepting her decision.

"Who's Bastila?" asked Mission.

"Bastila's the Jedi we're trying to save from the Vulkars," Carth explained.

"Is that why we're breaking into the base?" asked Mission, growing excited.

"No." replied Aithne, "That's so we can steal back the prototype swoop accelerator that the Vulkars stole from the Beks, so Gadon will let me race for the Beks, so I can win the racing tournament and get Bastila, who's being offered up as the Vulkars' share of the prize."

"That sounds complicated," Mission said.

"You have no idea," Carth groaned.

"Who are you guys, really?" asked Mission. "How did you come to be mixed up in all this?"

"Carth has been a pilot for the Republic for years," Aithne said.

"I knew I liked him," said Mission firmly. Carth looked surprised, but pleased. Mission was obviously a firm Republic supporter.

"And I was a scout that got recruited rather forcefully into the Republic and stayed out of boredom," Aithne continued. "We were both on a ship that was escorting Bastila, and the Sith ambushed us and blew it up." She choked, remembering. "Carth, Bastila, and I are the only survivors. Carth and I were on the same escape pod, but Bastila crashed in the Undercity. She was captured by the Vulkars."

"So now you have to find her and take her back to the Jedi," Mission finished, nodding in understanding.

/What is your plan once you have found Bastila?/ asked Zaalbar.

"We plan on somehow breaking the Sith quarantine and leaving the planet. We'll escort Bastila to a place where she can regroup and get her new instructions. Carth will probably report into the Republic for his new assignment. As for me, I don't know what I'll do," Aithne finished, her voice shaking a little.

"Whatever you do, we'll be there with you," promised Mission, and Zaalbar roared in agreement.

"Our mission will be dangerous," Carth warned. "We aren't the only ones looking for Bastila. We may encounter several Sith."

"Sith shmith," scoffed Mission. "We'll pulverize 'em!"

Aithne laughed at the teenager's cavalier attitude. "Good to have you aboard, Mission. Frankly, we could use your talents."

Mission squealed and gave Aithne a hug. Aithne stared, positively flummoxed. She tells the kid she gets to come on a dangerous, life-threatening mission and leave the only planet she's ever known, and the kid hugs her? Mission quieted, returning to business. "So…" she began. "I guess I still owe you one secret path into the Vulkar base. That was the deal, wasn't it? Don't worry! I know a backdoor into that scum den!"

"Good," Carth said, comforted by the return to business. "The sooner we get there, the better."

"I better come with you," said Mission, beginning to pace in thought. "The Vulkars put up a force shield to keep the sewer dwellers out. I'm one of the only non-Vulkars on Taris who can get you past it. I can't remember exactly how to get there," she added nervously, "but I know it was somewhere here in the sewers. Over to the…northeast, if I remember right. I just hope the rancor monster isn't still there."

Carth blanched. Aithne said slowly, and very calmly."I think someone forgot to mention that tiny little detail, Mission."

Mission looked apologetic. "There used to be a rancor monster that made its nest there in that part of the sewers," she informed Aithne belatedly. "Pretty much eats anything it can get its claws on. That thing is huge!" Aithne suddenly had a vivid image of a rancor beast the size of their Upper City apartment chewing on a bloody blue headtail, a ripped orange jacket at its feet. She turned bone white. Mission held up a hand, "Wait to panic, Aithne. Luckily for us, rancors aren't too bright. I was able to sneak past it before, so I'm sure we'll figure something out. That is, unless you want to change your mind." She looked at Aithne, challenge in her face.

Aithne threw her head back proudly, and perhaps stupidly. "That's not really an option, now, is it? Let's go."

Mission grinned, pleased. "Ok then, off we go. Like I said, somewhere to the…southeast. Just look for the force shield and we'll know we're there."

Carth looked at Mission. "Well, which is it?"

"Which is what?" asked Mission in confusion.

"First you said we need to go northeast, then you said we need to go southeast. Which is it?"

/She also said she didn't know,/ remarked Zaalbar lazily to Carth and Aithne.

"We'll head east," supplied Aithne diplomatically, seeing the Twi'lek begin to turn violet. "We'll see what we can do from there."

And so off they went. Zaalbar took the lead. It was now his own personal mission to protect Aithne, and to do that, he felt he needed to be in the front, the first to see and fight off what would harm her.

Carth tailed the line, providing a rear guard, and ranged support with his blasters. He would watch Aithne's back, like he always did. Mission and Aithne filled in the middle space. In a skirmish, she had instructions to fall back with Carth and help him to provide ranged support, while Aithne and Zaalbar sliced at the enemies with melee weapons. As Mission and Aithne went along, they talked.

"So what's with you and Carth?" Mission asked in a low voice.

Aithne clenched her jaw. "There is _nothing_ going on between me and Carth," she growled.

"Puh-leeze," Mission scoffed. "You don't get as many sparks as I saw back there without something going on."

"Whatever sparks you saw," Aithne said primly, "were simply me being furious because he's being an idiot!" she finished in an acid tone.

"Then why are you trying so hard to get him to trust you?" Mission shot back. "If you didn't like him, you wouldn't care."

Aithne looked down. "Un-huh," Mission said in satisfaction.

"Mission, there is nothing going on between me and Carth," Aithne repeated, in a slightly different tone. She risked a backward glance. The pilot was far enough away that he wasn't hearing a thing. He looked at her curiously.

"But you wish there was," Mission taunted smugly. Aithne reddened. She did, curse him.

"Shut up," Aithne growled, glaring at Mission.

"Aw, c'mon, just admit you like him," Mission cajoled. "You can trust me."

"No." Aithne said.

"No you can't trust me? No you won't admit it?" Mission teased. She beamed, lekku twitching, and was silent.

"For the record," she said softly, a few steps farther down the murky sewer corridor. "He likes you, too."

"He doesn't," Aithne said softly, shadows in her eyes at the confession.

"You don't get by in the Lower City without learning something about people," Mission observed. "I've seen the way he looks at you. He likes you," she finished firmly. "He just don't know what to do with it yet. I think he's been hurt before."

"I know," said Aithne, and both were silent together.

There were several skirmishes before they finally reached the blue force shield Mission talked about. Aithne found another Outcast journal, this one even older than the last. She kept it with the other in her pack. She had a feeling it would be important. But she had still seen no trace of Rukil's lost apprentice.

When they did finally reach the force shield, Mission shut it down just as easily as she'd retrieved the mines in their path.

"Shall we?" Aithne said, bowing theatrically towards Mission, who was allowed to proceed her through the open door that led into the Upper Sewers.

"We shall," declared Mission in the same dramatic tones. Zaalbar groaned. Now there were two of them.

The Upper Sewers smelled slightly better than the Lower Sewers, and seemed somehow older. The passages were eerily quiet, aside from the dripping of sewage, and Aithne was more than a little creeped out. She felt like the bantha when the hunter is near.

There were a few skirmishes in the Upper Sewers as the company trudged on through the gloom and muck, but not nearly so many as below. The company, too, was quieter, more aware. Aithne could feel Mission beside her grow more and more uncomfortable, and assumed they were nearing the lair of the rancor monster. Finally, Mission spoke into the silence.

"Hey, Carth," she said in a forced light tone. "You're a pilot for the Republic, right? You've been all over the galaxy I bet, right? So tell me, how would you rate Taris compared to other worlds you've seen."

Carth's voice came back, steady and calm. Aithne relaxed almost instantly. She mentally thanked Mission. Finally, she tuned into the words…"would rate pretty low. The prejudice, the rich spoiling themselves while the poor are crushed beneath them: not a pretty picture."

Mission forgot her fear as she rose in defense of her home for nine years. "Yeah, but that's only since the Sith occupation. Before that…" she thought for a moment. "Well…I guess it wasn't all that different, really. Hmmm. Maybe Taris ain't as great as I thought, you know?"

Carth smiled and placed a fatherly hand upon the Twi'lek's thin shoulder. "Trust me, Mission. There are a lot of worlds better than Taris. There are worse, too," he added. "But Taris is no place for a kid to live on her own, even a kid who has a Wookiee to look out for her," he finished with a glance at Zaalbar.

"You shouldn't have gone there, flyboy," drawled Aithne in amusement, seeing Mission turn violet. The teenager threw Carth's hand off her shoulder angrily.

"Hey!" she said, whirling and placing her hands on her hips. "I ain't no kid! And I look out for Zaalbar as much as he looks out for me! Big Z's my friend, not my babysitter! Geez," she complained, "I come ask you a question and you give me a lecture!"

Carth stiffened. "Don't you snap at me, missy! You want a lecture? How's this: only bratty little children fly off the handle because of a simple comment."

"Then Mission isn't the only bratty kid we have around," observed Aithne, amused. "Eh, Carth?"

Carth flushed and looked down.

Mission yelled out "I don't have to take this from you, Carth! You ain't my father, though you're sure old enough to be! So keep your lectures inside your withered old head, 'cause I don't need 'em!"

Carth looked up again, incensed, "And I sure don't need this. Let's just drop it and go back to what we're doing."

Aithne barely restrained her laughter. Looking ahead, she was shocked to notice Zaalbar doing the same. She exchanged a glance with the Wookiee, who snorted. /They sound like a parent and cub./

Mission turned violet, but gave no other sign that she heard. Aithne knelt to examine a severed arm at her feet. It held a datapad and a vial of a weird looking fluid. Reading the datapad, Aithne stiffened.

"Playtime's over, children," she said. "According to this, the rancor is just next door."

"How are we going to get past it?" asked Mission.

"You and the Beks are going to help us," announced Aithne.

"Was that a Bek?" Carth asked grimly, gesturing at the severed arm on the ground. Aithne nodded. "So what are we going to do?" he prodded.

"None of us except Mission has any particular skill with stealth," said Aithne. "And according to this datapad, the four of us have no chance defeating it head on. This vial," she said, tapping the container in question, "contains a formula that smells to the rancor like dinner. The plan is to feed it something toxic enough to destroy it."

"Mission," she said to the Twi'lek teen, "I am dousing this frag grenade in the formula and wrapping it in an extra shirt. Your job is to sneak in there, unwrap the grenade and leave it for the rancor to eat. Make sure you get out of there quick," she added, "The rancor, from what I've read, will come after it pretty quick. We want it to eat the grenade. Let's not add you to the dinner menu."

Mission paled, but nodded.

Carth looked hard at Mission, concern evident on his face. "Are you sure you want to do this, Mission?" he asked softly. "'Cause we can work something else out if you'd rather not."

Mission jerked her chin up defiantly, annoyed at Carth's consideration. "No way am I backing out, Carth! I can handle it!"

"I know you can," said Aithne, with considerably more confidence than she felt.

/Be careful!/ growled Zaalbar worriedly.

Mission activated her stealth field generator, took the grenade from Aithne, and all but faded from sight. From the doorway, Aithne saw a huge rancor beast. It _was_ nearly as big as their apartment! Long, yellow teeth hung over its heavy jaw. It's long, leathery arms hung at its sides, tipped with long, bloodstained claws that reminded Aithne of rusty knives. She closed her eyes and said a prayer to whatever powers existed for Mission. A few long seconds passed, then Aithne saw the rancor lurch forward with surprising grace. The grace of a predator about to kill. Aithne held her breath. The rancor snorted, opening its mouth, then roared in pain. A bright light shot out of its mouth and blood flew everywhere inside the neighboring room, a disgusting, thick, greenish black. When the carnage cleared, there lay the rancor monster, quite dead.

"Well that's entertaining, ain't it?" came a voice from beside her as Mission deactivated her stealth. She stood there, unharmed and totally confident, smirking at the astonishment on her companion's faces.

Aithne hugged her. "You're alright!" she breathed, nearly crying in relief.

"Well of course!" laughed Mission. "You said I would be!" As Aithne turned away, Mission stuck her tongue out at a flabbergasted Carth.

"You're the best stealth op I've ever seen," remarked Carth lightly.

"Why thank you, kind sir," Mission mocked. "That a soldier of so _many_ years of experience would say that to a kid like me is truly a compliment!"

"Play nice with the other kids, Mission," Aithne teased lightly as Carth scowled.

"Yes, _Mom_," growled Mission sulkily. Aithne laughed and led the way past the foul-smelling dead rancor to the next room.

Opening the door, they were confronted with two Vulkar guards.

"Finally," Carth growled, drawing his blasters.

In no time at all, Mission had sliced them into the Vulkar base. Aithne collapsed with exaggerated relief, cradling her nose. "Oh, fresh air!" she gushed, "Never again will I take thee for granted!"

Carth rolled his eyes, amused. Zaalbar growled in agreement. Mission snorted. "C'mon. Let's get that accelerator."

They fought their way through the base, which, surprisingly, was mostly occupied by droids. "They must all be at a party or something," Mission commented at the third sentient free room. About halfway through the base, Aithne called a rest.

"I trashed the cameras a while ago," she explained. "The Vulkars won't see us taking a breather here. Besides, we just freed that waitress. I'd rather rest feeling good about myself than after a mass slaughter."

Her companions nodded. All of them flopped down on the floor, which, like at the Bek base, was clean.

"Say, Carth," Aithne said as Mission and Zaalbar settled a ways away to talk, presumably about his imprisonment. "Can I talk to you some more?"

"Oh?" said Carth, laughing a little. "You want to argue some more, is that it?"

"Bring it on, flyboy," said Aithne in a low voice, winking. "I'm always up for a good fight." She spoke teasingly, but steel laced her words.

Carth laughed. "Can't say I've ever met a woman quite like you before," he admitted. "You're really something."

"Is that a compliment or an insult?" Aithne asked, eyes dancing.

"Think what you want, beautiful," replied Carth, smiling. His face grew serious. "I just don't trust easily, and for good reasons, which are my own," he said, gently but firmly.

Just as gently and firmly, Aithne said "But we have to work together, Carth. So it has plenty to do with me. Until you open up, you're an unknown factor."

Carth sighed. "Ahh…fine," he said in exhaustion. "I suppose I won't get any rest until I talk, will I?"

Mutely, Aithne shook her head. Carth nodded.

"You want to know why I don't trust anyone? Fine. Here goes." He sat forward, preparing to tell his story. Aithne tried to keep her satisfaction off her face. "Five years ago, the Jedi had just finished the war with the Mandalorians. Revan and Malak were heroes. I was proud to have served in their fleet. It was completely unexpected when they turned on us, invading the Republic while we were still weak. Nobody knew what to think. Least of all me."

Aithne laughed bitterly. "Don't feel so special, flyboy," she murmured. "It set everyone's head on end."

"I mean, our heroes had become brutal, conquering Sith," Carth continued, voice agitated as he remembered. "and we were all but helpless before them. Think about it…if you can't even trust the best of the Jedi, who can you trust?"

Aithne laughed again. "Actually, I think the Jedi would say Revan and Malak were less than sterling examples of the Order even before they turned to the Dark Side."

Carth was sidetracked momentarily. "You don't like the Jedi?" he asked.

"Cryptic hypocrites, all of them," Aithne spat. "Preaching pacifism while the galaxy burns. I'm all for peace, but when innocents are threatened, action must be taken."

Carth smiled at her in genuine approval. "I couldn't agree more," he said softly.

"Anyway," said Aithne in a calmer tone. "What do I have to do with Malak and Revan?"

"Your sentiments, for one," pointed out Carth, "but that's not what I mean. There were…there were others. Good, solid, trusted men who joined them." His voice grew bleak and bitter, and Aithne knew he'd come close to his issue. "Malak and Revan and the Sith deserve to die for what they've done," Carth declared, his voice gaining anger and conviction, and Aithne decided not to point out at the moment that Revan was already dead. "But the men who fled the Republic and joined them are even worse. The Dark Side has nothing to do with why they joined with the Sith," he spat acidly. "They deserve _no_ mercy!" Carth's face had grown darker throughout this speech, and for the first time, Aithne saw the Dark Side lurking in _his_ eyes. She shuddered.

"You say that with such…hatred," she said carefully. _What did those men _do_ to you, _she wondered.

Carth deflated, looking old and tired and sick. "I know. I…I should apologize to you," he admitted. "I've become so accustomed to expecting the worst in others, and you've done nothing to deserve that. It's just…never mind. Let's just continue with what we were doing. I'd rather not talk about it."

"Ok, Carth," murmured Aithne. She wasn't sure if Carth heard her. He stared ahead, lost in a mire of bad memories, his haunted eyes scalding her soul. "But we will talk about it."

She crossed over to Mission and Zaalbar, leaving Carth alone with his thoughts. She attempted to ask Zaalbar about his past, but he refused to talk, saying that he did not feel they shared more than the lifedebt that bound them. His expression was so closed that Aithne honored his request. She felt no turmoil within him, like she did with Carth. Just a closed book.

"Mission, do you have more to say?" Aithne asked the teen pointedly.

Mission looked down, embarrassed. "I…I was a little snappish when we last talked," she admitted. "I'm sorry about that. I get kind of touchy when it comes to Griff. It's kind of embarrassing telling people about him."

Aithne didn't feel an urgency to press Mission either. She refused to think she didn't care as much. "You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to," she began.

Mission hastily raised a hand, shaking her head. "No," she protested, lekku waving fast, "I want to tell you. Zaalbar's a great listener, but it might be nice to talk about this with someone who doesn't reply in growls and grunts." Zaalbar grunted and moved away. "I never knew my parents," confessed Mission. "My brother always looked out for me. He's the one who brought me to Taris. I was just a kid, only five, but I remember the trip-if you could call it that," she said awkwardly. "We were stuffed inside a packing crate in a star freighter's cargo hold with just enough food and water to make the trip. Not exactly first class, you know?"

Aithne laughed. "I've been almost everywhere in the known galaxy. And some places unknown. I've traveled almost every way you can think of. I know."

Mission smiled, slightly less nervous. "I don't know the whole story-I was pretty young. But my brother owed a lot of money. Might even have been a few arrest warrants out for him. I don't know." She shrugged. "The only way to get off the planet was to smuggle ourselves out. I mean, I don't want to make it sound like we were criminals…" she hesitated. "Well, maybe, my brother was." She looked down, flushing. "See, this is why I don't like to talk about it. It makes Griff sound worse than he really was. My brother had his problems, but he always looked out for me."

Aithne put a hand on the teenager's shoulder. "I understand," she said gently. "He's family. You have to stick by your family." Especially when this Griff was all Mission had had.

Mission brightened. "Yeah! That's what I'm trying to say! Without my brother, I don't know where I'd be. He gambled," she admitted with disgust, "and drank. And he was always borrowing money for his latest get-rich-quick scheme. But he had a good heart, you know? He taught me how to survive," she related. "He showed me how to slice into a computer's security system; how to get inside a locked door without the entrance codes, and how to spot a wealthy mark for a quick shell game."

In a way, Aithne was glad Griff appeared to be gone. It sounded like he'd been leading Mission down a path headed nowhere fast. But Aithne knew Mission would be sensitive about that. So instead of pointing that out, she said, "Pretty handy skills to have, Mission." It wasn't even a lie. With what they were doing now, Mission's particular set of skills was very handy.

"Yeah," Mission said wistfully. "I really miss him since he left. I keep hoping he'll come back some day. He promised me he would."

Aithne's heart broke for the girl. From what she'd heard, it didn't sound like Griff was big on keeping promises. "Why did he leave?" she asked softly.

Mission's face hardened. "He fell in with a bad crowd," she grated out. "It's all Lena's fault!" she cried. "She's the one who took him away from me! Just batted those long lashes at him and off he went!"

"Who's Lena?" asked Aithne apprehensively.

Mission glared at Aithne. "I don't want to talk about Griff and Lena- just the thought of that space tramp makes my blood boil! Subject's closed as far as I'm concerned! If I'm going to be any help to you," she explained in a somewhat calmer tone, "I can't be worrying about my brother running off with some intergalactic skank! So, is there anything else you need?"

"Yes, actually," said Aithne, putting on her teacher face. "I thank you for apologizing to me. I appreciate it. You're forgiven. I'd like you to consider apologizing to Carth. Wait, just hear me out," she added as Mission started to protest.

"He just wants to look out for you, Mission. The same as he wants to look out for everyone. Besides, it was a silly fight." Mission made a face. "Don't give me that look, you know it was. And if you are going to apologize for your behavior to me, grant him the same courtesy. We'll be working together for a while." She smiled and punched Mission lightly on the arm. "He's not so bad. Just think about it."

"Alright," grumbled Mission. "For _you_."

"C'mon guys," called Aithne in a louder voice. Carth and Zaalbar looked up. "Let's move."

Painfully, everyone rose to their feet. They'd only jogged a few paces, when Aithne heard Mission say,

"Uh, hey Carth. Can I …can I talk to you for a second?" Aithne smiled. She did like that kid.

Carth turned to face Mission, stopping the procession. "Are you ready to have a civil chat?" he asked sternly, hands on his hips. "Or is this going to be another childish tantrum?" Aithne giggled behind her hand. Even her own father hadn't sounded so parental.

"Tantrum?" cried Mission incredulously. "I'm trying to apologize, you nerf-herder!" She looked nervously at Aithne, took a deep breath, and said in a much calmer tone, "Uh…I mean…I'm sorry," she finally got out. "I didn't mean to get mad at you," she confessed. "It's just that I'm sick of everyone treating me like I'm a helpless kid."

Carth softened immediately. He smiled at the girl. "Yeah, I know. And I'm sorry about what I said, too. I'm just a little on edge lately. Not surprising, considering all we've been through. But I shouldn't take it out on you." Mission's eyes darted to Aithne when Carth mentioned he was on edge, but she said nothing.

Aithne felt like cheering. /It is good to see you two reconciling your differences./ commented Zaalbar happily.

"What's with all the apologies?" teased Aithne. "I was hoping for another fight!" But she smiled at Carth and Mission, and both felt the warmth of her approval.

"Mission," Carth continued, "You have to know that we don't think you're helpless. Look at where we are. Look at what we're doing! We need you," he said sincerely.

Aithne caught a flash of what looked like tears in the girl's eyes. "You really mean it, don't you," she said, in a much different tone than any she had previously used. "Nobody's ever said nothing like that to me before, not even Big Z. He might think it, but he's not really one for words, you know? Thanks, Carth." And Aithne knew that the lonely teenager was now as much on Carth's side as she was on Zaalbar or Aithne's.

Carth shrugged, embarrassed by the girl's emotion. "Ah, it's no big deal. I know how it is. Sometimes you just need to hear a few words of encouragement." He paused dramatically. "Kids are like that."

Aithne smirked. Mission turned purple with rage. "Kids are like that! Listen here…" she began, then stopped. She laughed, seeing the twinkle in Carth's eye. "Oh, I get it. Ok, you got me. You're pretty funny, Carth," she said, "for an old guy. Come on, you geezer, let's get back to what we were doing."

As Aithne and the others headed to the garage elevator to take them to the lower levels of the Vulkar base, they talked and joked as they'd done before. But this time, Carth and Mission talked with one another.

The lower levels of the Vulkar base were similarly depopulated, and Aithne was able to obtain a pass card after taking out the garage head that she suspected would take them to where the Vulkars were keeping the accelerator. She was even able to find a workbench, and she stopped there to upgrade their armor and weapons with some parts she'd found lying around.

"Do we have to stop, Aithne?" Carth asked impatiently. "The Vulkars might all get back from wherever they've gotten to, soon.

"Listen here, Onasi," said Aithne. "Brejik will probably have some of his best men guarding that accelerator. We're exhausted. We don't want to go in unprepared. Now hand me your blaster and your armor top."

Muttering under his breath about women who had no sense of urgency, Carth complied. He stood there in his black undershirt, looking annoyed and very handsome. Aithne turned away quickly. "Mission, hand me the upgrades in your pack," she instructed, stripping down to her own white tank. Mission whistled playfully, her eyes darting from Carth to Aithne and back. Aithne glared at her. Mission handed her the upgrades.

For the next few minutes, the world was nothing but mesh and metal and circuits. Finally, Aithne looked up, and tossed Carth his improved gear. "Your blaster now has three of the four upgrades possible, Carth. And I added a mesh underlay to your armor. You're welcome."

She donned her own armor and thrust her dual, improved vibroblades back through their sheathes.

"Thank you, Aithne," growled Carth, not sounding the least bit grateful. Aithne flashed him a brilliant smile.

"_Now_ we may go," she said brightly. Carth rolled his eyes, and Aithne led the way to a uniquely locked door and keyed them in.

She saw two Twi'leks, armed to the teeth, and behind them, two Rodian guards.

The green, male Twi'lek, who appeared to be in charge, once he registered his surprise, spoke. /Looks like we have some visitors,/ he sneered, addressing the female Twi'lek on his right. /Lackeys conned by Gadon Thek into trying to steal Brejik's swoop engine accelerator, I bet!/

Mission glared at the Vulkar, lekku twitching angrily. "Brejik _stole_ that engine from Gadon!" she spat. "It was never _yours_ to begin with!"

The Twi'lek male glared back at her. /Well I didn't go to all the trouble of acquiring this prototype just so you could steal it back for that old fool/ he snarled.

The female Twi'lek brightened. /Would you like me to dispose of these Bek spies, Kandon?/ she purred.

Aithne shivered in disgust. Carth, Zaalbar and Mission pressed in closer to her, tensing for a fight.

/No,/ said Kandon, /hold on a second. I see you aren't wearing the Hidden Bek colors,/ he said, addressing Aithne. Aithne cursed mentally. He could probably tell she was heading this operation from how the others had pressed in towards her when confronted with the oncoming fight. Now she'd get saddled with speaking for the group and making whatever decisions Kandon threw their way. /I'm guessing you aren't a part of that feeble old man's gang. You must be a freelance mercenary./

_Something like that, _thought Aithne, smiling coldly. "You're right. I'm not one of the Beks. My name is Aithne Morrigan."

Kandon smiled in what he seemed to think was a friendly way. /Instead of stealing the prototype for the Beks,/ Kandon proposed, /why don't you come work for us? The Black Vulkars could use someone like you./

Aithne snorted. "As if! You've tried to kill me numerous times out on the street just for walking. You stole that accelerator from Gadon. I've had quite enough of the Black Vulkars! For that matter, we've killed half your base,"

Kandon nodded, impressed rather than disgusted. Aithne felt sick. /Be smart!/ he urged. /Gadon Thek is old news! He's a blind fool in more ways than one. Brejik is a visionary-soon he'll control the entire Lower City! Don't shackle yourself to a losing team./

Aithne felt very cold then. "Do you call Brejik a visionary? Have you seen what he's done to the Lower City? He's a tyrant. And tyrants always lose. Besides, I like Gadon. I'm not going to betray him.

That cold feeling washed over Aithne again. And Kandon didn't look like a Twi'lek anymore to her, he looked like vermin to be exterminated. "Tyrants always lose, Kandon," she said softly. "Besides, I like Gadon. I'm not going to betray him. I'm not scum or a coward. You should be happy," she added. "At least I'm not threatening your position."

Kandon scowled. Then, eyes still glinting with anger, he sighed dramatically. /I can see there's not much chance of convincing you to come work for us after all. Most unfortunate./

The Twi'lek bodyguard leaned forward eagerly, an attack dog on a leash. /Now can I kill them, Kandon?/ she asked.

/Yes, darling,/ Kandon said in a hard voice. /Kill them. Kill them all./

Aithne leapt forward just as eagerly as the bodyguard. She fell upon a Rodian bodyguard as Zaalbar attacked the Twi'lek woman and Carth and Mission covered the other two. It didn't take long for Aithne to take the two Rodians down. She joined Zaalbar attacking the woman with the fervor of a woman ridding the world of an evil. She turned as the woman fell to see Kandon already dead on the floor, courtesy of Carth Onasi and Mission Vao. She turned to survey her companions.

Aithne walked up to Mission. The teenager was shaking, her skin almost white, it was so pale. Tears leaked out of her eyes, and she fell to her knees, gasping hysterically.

"He's dead, he's dead, he's dead," she wailed. "And I helped kill him. He's dead and I killed him, Aithne!"

"That was your first kill?" Carth asked. Mission nodded, unable to speak.

Aithne knelt beside the girl, wrapped her arm around Mission's thin shoulders and helped her to stand.

"Yes. He's dead. But if you hadn't have killed him, _you_ would be dead on the floor."

/He would not have mourned your passing, Mission/ said Zaalbar. /There is no guilt in your actions/.

"Mission, Kandon probably killed many people, and for far less reason than you killed him," Carth said.

Color returned slowly to Mission's face. "I did right?"

"You did right, and you do better to lament his passing," said Aithne. "Your grief and regret tell me that you will never be a monster like he was. It is always a tragedy to take a life." She hugged the girl tightly, and was rewarded by a small squeeze in return.

Zaalbar had looted the bodies, and now added some very cool stuff to his pack. Aithne strode over to the other side of the room. Catching sight of a mine, she froze. "Mission, will you do the honors?" she asked.

Mission wiped her face on the back of her hand and strode forward, at first timidly, and then with confidence. There was a new hardness in her face- a little of her innocence had been lost. _She's going to grow up on my watch, _realized Aithne. The responsibility for the girl's wellbeing, mentally, physically, and emotionally settled like a weight on Aithne's shoulders. She glanced at Carth. He nodded. He'd realized it, too. As Mission disabled the mine and removed the Bek prototype accelerator, carefully stowing it in her pack, Carth murmured, "We'll look after her, you and Zaalbar and I, whatever happens." Aithne suddenly felt a whole lot better.

"Let's head back to our apartment and get some sleep. We'll hand that over to the Beks tomorrow morning." Carth said.

"No," Aithne cut in, surprising everyone. "We'll do that later. Tonight, we sleep in the Undercity. I've a promise to keep to Rukil the storyteller. I'll not be leaving here until we've found his apprentice," she stated firmly.

Carth nodded, weary, but resigned to the prospect. The travelers left the Vulkar base through the sewers, and traversed the vast wilderness of the Undercity in silence. Surprisingly, there were no attacks. Aithne figured even rhakghouls knew enough to vacate an area where so many of them had died. They entered the village, and found Gendar on the far side of the village.

"Request refuge for the night, Gendar," asked Aithne, bowing politely.

"Of course, Up-worlder," murmured Gendar, bowing as well. He rummaged about in the refuse and drew out a spare tent and four bedrolls. "Here. It is not much, but it is all we can offer you."

"It is sufficient," said Aithne. "We thank you for your hospitality."

Together, Carth and Zaalbar pitched the tent. Afterwards, Mission and Aithne made up the bedrolls. Looking at one another in silence, the travelers collapsed without a word. In seconds, they were asleep.


	6. Which is Full of Time Consuming Heroics

**Disclaimer: Hey, this place? These people? Don't own 'em.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Six<p>

Aithne awoke early the next morning, feeling disgusting. She sat up and looked at her clothes, realizing she was still covered in dirt and blood from the day before. She licked her dry lips, looking around at her three sleeping companions, still sleeping on the cold ground of the Undercity. Aithne sighed. She probably wouldn't be able to shower anytime soon, but she at least had a change of clothes. They'd organized the packs last night. Aithne carried datapads of information they'd picked up, healing supplies, and food. Carth carried all the armor and spare clothes- they'd obtained quite a lot of it at the Vulkar base. They'd rescued Zaalbar's gear from the Gamorreans, and he now carried all the party's spare weapons. Mission's pack, by far the lightest, contained upgrades, repair parts, and security spikes. Aithne checked all the supplies carefully, making sure no one from the Undercity had crept in to steal anything. When she'd made certain it was all there she removed her dirty scout's uniform and dressed in some fiber armor they'd picked up at the Vulkar base, dodging the sleeping bodies on the ground in the close confines of the tent. Then she grabbed an energy bar, noting that they had enough supplies to last another forty-eight hours down here. She didn't plan on staying more than six. Wiping her mouth, she bent to rouse the others.

"Carth, Zaalbar," she called softly. The soldier and the Wookiee scout, both trained, opened their eyes at once. She tossed them both an energy bar. "Get ready," she told them as soon as they'd come to their senses. "We leave in fifteen."

Carth nodded, and Zaalbar tore into his energy bar. Aithne knelt beside Mission. "Mission," she murmured, shaking the girl's shoulder gently. "Mission,"

"Mmm?" groaned the girl, eyes still closed. Her brow furrowed, and suddenly her eyes flew open. She stared at Aithne for a moment, hands flying to her hip and the vibroblade she slept with. Suddenly her gaze cleared, as she remembered the events of yesterday. "Aithne…" she murmured. "Sorry about that," she said.

Aithne put a hand on the girl's shoulder. "It's okay, Mish." She wondered about the kind of fear the girl must have lived with her entire life to wake up with that expression. "It's good to always be prepared. Get ready. We leave in fifteen minutes."

And in fifteen minutes the tent had been taken down, Mission and Carth were dressed in their spare clothes, and everyone had eaten and drank. Looking around, Aithne saw that for the most part the citizens of the Undercity had yet to rise. It was the same dull darkness in the Undercity that they had moved in for most of yesterday, but some sixth sense told Aithne it was near five thirty in the morning.

"Let's go," she said softly, leading her little crew around the mishmash of tents to the gate. The gatekeeper nodded silently at her approach, opening the gate for them to pass through.

Aithne walked a little in the direction of the sewers. She found a few spare medpacs and stimulants lying around, no big deal, for an hour or so, with no rhakghoul interference. But she saw no sign of Malya for an hour or so. It was nearing seven when Aithne spied someone to the left of her party. But the someone, the group, Aithne realized, as more than the one materialized out of the gloom, walked upright.

"C'mon, "she called to the others. "Let's see what these people can tell us."

As she approached in the company in the gloom, she could make out four men armed to the teeth and looking decidedly nervous. One of the men caught sight of her, and he cried out, his voice shaking like a leaf on an autumn day, "Don't…don't move!" he swung his blaster in Aithne's direction. "I'm…I'm not afraid to use this blaster if I have to!"

Aithne kept moving, holding her hands up. "I'm a friend," she said calmly, in a voice that carried through the stillness. "And I can promise you neither I nor any of my companions have been bitten by any rhakghouls,"

"Settle down, kid," growled a voice like a cement mixer. Aithne started. She recognized the voice. And as a man stepped out of the shadows, she realized she recognized the speaker. It was that merc from before. Not Calo Nord, the other one. She realized he must be the leader of this party, and that the party must be from the exchange. The merc continued to calm his frightened soldier. "We've already lost enough men to those damn rhakghouls! The last thing we need now is more casualties from a needless firefight." He surveyed Aithne, Carth, Mission and Zaalbar, apparently not recognizing them. "Hmm- by the looks of you I'd say you're here for the same reason we are: to salvage something from those downed Republic space pods. Let me give you some advice: forget about it. Do yourself a favor and just head back the way you came." His tone was conversational, but held a threatening edge. Aithne bristled.

"Why?" she demanded. "Is there some danger here?" She looked scornfully at the man's cowering fighters. The merc himself looked tough, but even Mission could take down his companions without breaking a sweat.

The Mandalorian merc didn't rise to the bait. "This isn't a good place to stand around chatting," he informed her slowly, as if she were a half-wit. "The Undercity is crawling with rhakghouls. I've already lost a dozen men to those monsters!"

So that was why his men looked so scared. The one who'd spoken earlier suddenly jumped. "Canderous," he cried, his voice jumping about an octave and a half. "I heard something! Over there, in the shadows! Sounded like a rhakghoul."

Aithne immediately zeroed in on the spot he'd indicated. Actually, it wasn't a rhakghoul. It was four of them. They loped towards Canderous and Aithne's parties with an uncanny speed. Aithne and the others fell into attack position. Canderous raised his gun, a huge heavy repeating blaster Aithne didn't want to be on the wrong end of. "Looks like we've got company!" he called to his men. "Get those blasters out, boys!"

Aithne and Zaalbar sprang upon two rhakghouls, but two more ran behind them, killing two of the merc's men before Carth and Mission could gun them down. Zaalbar downed his rhakghoul and turned to aid Aithne, who was faced with a seven foot rhakghoul fiend, his fangs dripping with poison and bared in a mindless, endless leer. Aithne gritted her teeth and lunged. Suddenly, a gaping hole appeared in the rhakghoul's stomach, spurting blood in every which way. Aithne stepped forward and beheaded the thing. As it fell, she saw the Mandalorian standing there, repeating blaster smoking. Aithne bowed,

The merc, Canderous, swore. Aithne had a feeling she wouldn't get him to censor himself. "I told Davik this salvage mission was a bad idea," spat the merc angrily. "His men aren't trained for this kind of thing, and I can't babysit them all!"

_You can't babysit _at _all, _thought Aithne, seeing only one man left at the Mandalorian's side.

"Come on, man," said the merc to his only remaining companion, "we're getting out of here before I lose you, too. I can't carry all this salvage back by myself." He turned to Aithne. "You'd be smart to get out of here, as well," remarked the Mandalorian. "Even if you can handle the rhakghouls. I doubt there's anything worth finding anymore."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Aithne.

"Davik sent me down here with this motley crew to scavenge what we could from the Republic space pods that crashed during the recent battle overhead," he explained. "But the Lower City gangs got here first. Anything worthwhile in those Republic pods is probably in their hands now. Davik won't like that."

"What can you tell me about Davik?" asked Aithne. It was always useful to know the local crime boss for the Exchange, particularly if one wanted to get off-world without being noticed.

"What are you, an off-worlder?" asked the merc, incredulous. "Everybody knows Davik. He's a member of the Exchange. You know, the interstellar crime syndicate. Smuggling, gambling, extortion, Davik controls it all here on Taris. That's why I'm working for him," he said, a touch of arrogance in his voice.

"But lately the Lower City gangs have been giving my boss some trouble," he finished.

Aithne nodded. She knew all about that. She'd even seen it. She also knew that the mercenaries would be wanting to hightail it out of the dim, dirty, Undercity, out of the mists where any second a rhakghoul could attack. "I better get going now," she said.

The Mandalorian smiled like a shark. He probably thought she meant they were leaving like he suggested. "Come on, man," he called to the shaking merc beside him. "Let's move out."

"I told you we'd see him again," remarked Aithne to Carth when the mercenaries were out of sight.

"I remember," he said with a smile."And have we seen the last of him?"

Aithne thought for a moment. "No. We'll see him again," she said with certainty.

"Aithne," said Carth, "anymore of these 'feelings' and I'll start to think you're a Jedi!"

"Spare me," Aithne groaned. Carth chuckled.

For a while, journeying through the Undercity was fairly uneventful. Sure, there were rhakghoul attacks, and they talked their way out of a confrontation with a Sith patrol once, but nothing too exciting. At one point, though, they caught sight of the escape pod, still smoking, buried in the cement. Near it, Aithne caught sight of a man, in Republic uniform.

"Carth!" she called behind her. "A Republic soldier!"

"Let's go!" Carth answered. "We could use his help. Maybe he'll even be as useful as you've been."

"I doubt it, flyboy," drawled Aithne. "I'm one of a kind."

As they drew close, however, Zaalbar motioned them to proceed carefully. On closer inspection, the soldier's skin appeared grey, and he was shaking and sweating. Suddenly, his skin ripped apart like paper, and his body warped and twisted until he was an ugly, big-headed mutant, all gaping mouth and poison teeth, with raw sinewy grew body. A rhakghoul. Aithne jumped back, revolted. To be looking at a man, then to suddenly see him change into a monster…and now the creature was attacking. Aithne couldn't bring herself to raise her blade. The creature lunged at her, fangs dripping, and Zaalbar stepped in front and lopped off its head. Aithne shuddered. She staggered a few steps to the side, and vomited.

There wasn't much in her stomach to empty, but her eyes were stinging and her stomach burned when she'd finished. Opening her canteen with shaking fingers, Aithne filled her mouth with water, swished it around, and spat. Then she took a long drink. Putting up her canteen, Aithne turned to face the others. "We're finding that serum for Zelka," she said, leaving no room for argument.

Carth nodded shakily. Mission wordlessly stared at the place the rhakghoul had fallen, cheeks almost white.

"C'mon, then," said Carth, leading the way to the only bit of the Undercity adjoining the village they had not yet checked. They fought another couple rhakghouls around a light post, but it was different now. Now they remembered that every rhakghoul they felled had been a person once, maybe even a good one. In the next moment of quiet, Aithne knelt to examine two bodies, relatively fresh.

They looked like they had died fighting, back to back, probably in a rhakghoul attack. A man and a woman. The man was still clutching his blaster rifle, but his armor had been broken in several places, and was stained with poison and blood. His Sith armor. His other hand clutched that of a young woman's. Her face was mauled beyond recognition, but her clothes proclaimed her to be an Outcast.

"The man was on patrol and ran into this woman," Aithne began, reading the signs. Zaalbar nodded in agreement.

/They barely knew each other, yet they died together. The Sith man spent his last moments alive fighting alongside this stranger, fending off the monsters to defend himself and the woman./

Aithne translated Zaalbar's message to Carth. "How do you know, Zaalbar?" Carth asked, clearly suspicious.

"Big Z's a Wookiee scout," piped up Mission, "He knows."

/The smell of death is slightly fresher on the Outcast woman,/ said Zaalbar, unperturbed. /And the Sith man's blood, not the woman's, is farther forward on the ground. He was standing in front of her./

Aithne translated. "Well that's something you don't see every day," remarked Carth, clearly surprised.

"The Sith are just sentient and capable of good as the rest of us. That's why I endeavor not to judge them or think they'll always act in a certain way," Aithne observed. "Because just when I start to think that they are all murdering bullies, one of them will die for a stranger."

Mission nodded, thoughtful. Carth looked doubtful, but troubled, all the same.

/What do they got, Zaalbar?/ Aithne asked the Wookiee in his native tongue.

/The Sith has armor, weapons, grenades, and/ here he paused, his eyes lighting up underneath his furry brow. /A couple vials of rhakghoul serum./

"We got our serum, guys!" whooped Aithne, showing Carth and Mission a vial. Carth smiled. /And the woman?/

/Just this datapad,/ Zaalbar shrugged, handing it over to her. Aithne switched it on.

_A journal of Malya, Apprentice to Rukil, Disciple in the Quest for the Promised Land, _were the first words of the datapad. Aithne frowned. "This woman was Malya," she said softly.

"Rukil's apprentice?" Mission asked.

"Yes,"

"Oh." Mission looked down at the woman again. "I used to talk to her," she told Aithne sadly.

Carth put a hand on Mission's shoulder.

"Let's go," said Aithne, in a more somber tone. "Rukil will want to know."

In a short time after they'd set out, at maybe eight-thirty in the morning, Aithne and the others were back in the village. Aithne led her companions through the tents. The citizens of the Undercity were beginning to move, just as full of quiet despair as before. Aithne sighed. If only she could do something for them. Carth drew level with her and squeezed her hand gently. Aithne looked at him gratefully. He smiled at her sadly.

Finally, she stood in front of Rukil's tent. Rukil caught sight of her, and smiled. "Greetings once more, up-worlder. Do you bring news of my apprentice? Have you discovered her fate, and proved yourself a true savior of my people?"

"Your apprentice is dead, Rukil," said Aithne. "I have her journal. I'm sorry," she said, giving the man the only object that remained of his apprentice.

Rukil sighed, but he didn't look surprised. "It is as I feared, then. She joins the list of those who have given their lives in the service of our cause. But though I am saddened by this news," he continued, a thread of excitement joining his voice, "there is yet hope. By finding my apprentice you have proved yourself worthy, up-worlder. You are to be the beacon on our path to salvation. You will guide us to the Promised Land!"

Aithne's eyes widened. "I don't have time," she protested, "Besides," she said, annoyance creeping into her voice. "I don't even know what I'm doing tomorrow, Rukil Wrinkle-skin. I think you have me confused with someone else."

Rukil smiled indulgently. "You are marked, up-worlder-even my dim old eyes can see the mantle of destiny that cloaks you. Perhaps old Rukil knows you better than you know yourself! I am old-" he continued. "I have lived a hundred years in the Undercity, cast down into the darkness. I know the legend and history of our people- and now you must learn it too!"

His wrinkled hands reached out for Aithne and pressed her hand with urgency. Aithne sighed.

"Fine. Tell me the history of your people."

Mission sat down, followed by Aithne, Zaalbar, and finally Carth. Aithne imagined they probably looked a pack of children there before the ancient storyteller. Oh, well. It couldn't be helped. Rukil began.

"The great city of Taris covers the entire surface of this planet. There is no land to grow food. Kelp harvests and the creatures of the sea are our only food source. A century ago," Rukil continued, "rising levels of toxic pollution poisoned the oceans and a famine swept the planet. The rich hoarded food for their own use, and the poor were left to starve and die." He raised his arms expressively.

Carth snorted. "From what I've seen of Taris, it doesn't look like much has changed. Except for the Upper City, people here are just as bad off as the poor in your little history."

"Carth!" hissed Aithne, slapping him lightly. "Don't be disrespectful!" Carth scowled sulkily. Rukil smiled at her.

"Ah, young man," continued Rukil, addressing Carth, who looked shocked to be addressed as 'young'. "In those days, the poor rose up against this tyranny and civil war engulfed the planet. Millions died in the fighting," he related sadly, "and huge sections of Taris were destroyed or abandoned. The rebellion was crushed in the end," he continued on a solemn note," Thousands were taken prisoner. The jails could not hold them all, and so the practice of banishing all prisoners to the Undercity was born."

Aithne nodded. Rukil was a very good storyteller. "Is that how you came to be down here?" she asked politely.

Rukil held up a hand. "Many brave men and women were banished here to the Undercity for their part in the rebellion." Slowly, he nodded. "People like my father and grandfather were cast down, along with their families."

"What did you expect?" Mission asked bitterly. "If they could get away with it the Tarisian nobles would stuff their own mothers down here to make more room in the Undercity."

. "Now we live a dark existence beneath the streets of Taris," Rukil concluded, "a life devoid of all hope but one:" he paused. "The Promised Land," he intoned, his ancient voice thrilling with the words. "And you will be the one to show us the way to get there."

"This again," said Aithne in disgust. "What is the Promised Land?" she asked Rukil. "And how can I possibly be expected to lead you there if I have no clue where it is myself?"

Rukil chuckled. "Patience, child. You will find your task is not so difficult in the end. Legends tell of a self-sufficient colony founded just before the famine and lost during the Civil War," he explained. "A paradise beneath the Undercity where droid servants tend to every need. For many years I searched for the Promised Land, just as my father and grandfather did before me. When I became old and grey my apprentice continued the search on my behalf."

Carth leaned over and whispered to Aithne, "It sounds like a myth to me, Morrigan. Something to give the people here some false hope to cling to so they don't go mad with despair."

Rukil continued. He hadn't noticed or heard Carth's comment. "I have collected many clues hinting at its location." He flipped through Malya's journal thoughtfully. "The journal of my apprentice provides yet more information." He stamped his foot in frustration. "But still there are pieces missing from the puzzle!" He looked up at Aithne at last. "But I know my father and grandfather each had journals where they recorded their own discoveries. Perhaps with these journals I could at last uncover its hidden location…" he trailed off hopefully.

Aithne considered. She had the journals of Rukil's father and grandfather. They might disappoint him. Perhaps the Promised Land was a myth, just like Carth suspected. But at any rate she couldn't interpret the journals; they were doing her absolutely no good. But Rukil had spent his entire life searching for the Promised Land. Maybe he would see something she didn't. Maybe it would lead to a better life for the hopeless citizens of the Tarisian Undercity. She decided to give Rukil the journals.

"I have the other two journals," she said finally, fishing them out of her pack. "Here, take them."

"Can it be true?" Rukil asked in failing tones, eyes shining as he reached for the journals. "Is it possible that at long last the dream of my father and grandfather before him will be fulfilled? I…I can hardly bear to look." As if in a dream, Rukil took the journals from Aithne's outstretched hand. For the next few minutes, there was no sound but Rukil muttering as he perused them.

"Yes," he finally said, "YES!" He jumped up, and Aithne could see a shadow of the young man he must have been flicker across his face, handsome and full of purpose. "Of course!" he cried, pacing with barely restrained excitement. "Now I understand-it all makes sense! Now I see why the Promised Land has been so difficult to find! It is so obvious!" He turned to Aithne, the joy on his face so radiant that it went a ways towards lighting up that dim Underworld of a village. He shook her warmly by the hand. "You have done a great thing, Aithne Morrigan. A selfless act that will bring great joy to all the people of this village! I must take this to Gendar right away."

Aithne followed him. "I want to see how this plays out," she whispered to the others.

Gendar was once again working nearby. Rukil approached, and Gendar looked up, annoyed. "Rukil. What do you want now?" he asked, sarcasm heavy in his voice. "Have you more tales of a hidden paradise, just waiting for us to find it?"

Rukil smiled. "You may not think these are fables after you see what I have brought you, Gendar!" he laughed. Gendar straightened. He had obviously never, in all his years in the Undercity, heard Rukil use so gleeful a tone. "Look at these journals!" Gendar bent over the datapads, reading the passages in the journals Rukil pointed out to him.

"What-no. It can't be!" said Gendar as he finished. "Are these real, Rukil? Is this information accurate?"

Rukil nodded, serious again. "I swear to you everything in these journals is true, Gendar. "The Promised Land!" he sighed. "I told you I would find it."

Gendar nodded, thinking. "The entrance is far from here, Rukil. It will take us weeks to get there…perhaps even months. And we will have to cross several rhakghoul infested areas."

Rukil nodded. "I do not deny the journey will be hard, Gendar. But surely it is better than the miserable life we have here!"

"Gendar," Aithne ventured, in a sudden flash of inspiration. The village leader turned to her inquiringly. Aithne offered him one of the vials of rhakghoul serum. "This will cure the rhakghoul disease should any of your citizens contract it on the journey," she told him. "I'm sure your healer can duplicate it for you." Aithne had met Esala the healer the night before, and thought her a capable person.

Gendar's eyes widened . "But this…this will greatly decrease the risk of the journey!" he cried. Then the joy left his face. He looked at Aithne gravely. "You know, up-worlder, that we can never repay you."

"What's the value of a thing?" Aithne asked rhetorically. "To me, just knowing that your village may reach a better life in safety is more than enough." She looked meaningfully at a solemn-eyed child peeping out from behind a tent.

Gendar bowed deeply. He turned to Rukil. "Our supplies are high right now. We could leave by nightfall! I will tell the others to prepare for the journey."

Aithne bowed. "I must be going, Gendar, Rukil. I wish you well on your quest. Tell Shaleena I said good-bye."

"Thank you once again, up-worlder. I will say a final good-bye," said Rukil. "Where we are going, you cannot come. "

"Good-bye, Rukil," said Aithne.

"Good-bye," said Mission. Carth shook the man's hand.

"Good luck."

Zaalbar roared his farewell.

"We must part ways here, up-worlder. I sense your destiny is yet to be chosen," said Rukil. "But the destiny of my people is at the end of the long journey ahead of us."

As Aithne, Carth, Mission, and Zaalbar threw their bags over their shoulders, they took one last look at the Undercity over their shoulders. They saw smiles on faces that before had worn only frowns. Everywhere they were bustling, preparing for a journey that could change their future. Aithne smiled.

Carth placed a hand on her shoulder. Aithne looked at him quizzically, and he squeezed, once. "You did good," he said simply. And the four of them stepped into the elevator, ready to leave the Undercity forever.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So. More than halfway through Taris! The format of this story has, for the most part, stayed the same, even if Aithne has changed a lot to be smarter and less obnoxious. Taris is where you meet most of your characters and develop a lot of the plotline. Thus it gets the most time, a little over a sixth of the entire story. Anyway, R&R!**

**May the Force be with you,**

**LMSharp**


	7. The Rescue of an Ungrateful Princess

**Disclaimer: No-one, no-place, and no-thing in the chapter below is my own creation and property.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Seven<p>

Aithne and her companions arrived at the Hidden Bek base at around ten-thirty in the morning. Aithne strode in, prototype accelerator in hand, and placed it on Gadon's desk. Hearing her approach, the swoop gang leader looked up. He took a moment to read her body signature in his ocular implants, then smiled.

"You have returned. Do you have the prototype swoop engine accelerator with you?"

"On your desk, Gadon," Aithne said. "Mission here helped me get it."

Gadon smiled and waved at Mission. "I was beginning to wonder if you would make it," he confessed. "The race is tomorrow, and my mechanics need time to install the prototype into the swoop engine of our bike."

Aithne stared levelly at Gadon. "Ok, I lived up to my end of the bargain, at great personal risk on all our parts, I might add. I expect you to pay up, Gadon."

"Don't worry," Gadon assured her, amused. "I'm a man of my word. I promised you could ride in the swoop race under the Hidden Bek banner, and I'm still going to let you do that. And," he said, in a salesman's 'that's-not-all' voice, "I'm even going to do you one better- I'm going to let you ride the swoop bike with the prototype accelerator installed on it. Without it, you won't stand a chance."

Aithne sensed Mission shoot Carth a worried glance behind her back. Zaerdra spoke up: "Gadon! You can't be serious! We need one of our best riders on that bike! We can't just let some rookie take the prototype engine into the race!"

Gadon shifted, and Aithne's zeroed in on him in suspicion. "Why are you doing this, Gadon?" The swoop gang leader slumped.

"There is a reason I'm letting you take the prototype engine. The accelerator isn't stable; there's a good chance it could explode during the race."

Carth, Mission, and Zaalbar stepped forward, all about to protest. Aithne raised a hand. Gadon continued. "I can't ask one of my own riders to take the risk-they'll be running unmodified swoops in the race. You'll be the only one using the prototype. If you can complete the track before the accelerator overheats then you'll win for the Beks. If you die, then one of my other riders could still come through for me."

"What, so Aithne's just…just _expendable_?" cried Mission, outraged on behalf of her friend.

"I've always been expendable, Mish," said Aithne gently, trying to calm Mission down, though her stomach was lurching. "That's why he sent me to break into the Vulkar base. The point is that if I _don't _die, I have a better chance than anyone of winning Bastila back. He's got all his bases covered." she said added, trying to mask her fear behind brave words and face.

Gadon twisted his mouth, torn between amusement and guilt. "You don't get to be leader of a swoop gang if you don't know how to work all the angles," he said. _If you don't know how to make sacrifices, _he means, Aithne thought. She swallowed hard, pale but resolved.

"Okay. I'll do it."

"You can stay here tonight," Gadon offered. "The mechanics need time to install the accelerator on the engine, so you won't be able to practice your riding. But I've got good instincts, and you have the look of a racer about you. Just try to relax and in the morning we'll take you to the swoop track."

Aithne nodded. A Bek woman led her and the others back to the barracks. Aithne drifted out, thinking.

* * *

><p>CARTH POV<p>

Carth made to follow Aithne after she left the barracks, but Zaalbar barred his path, growling something softly at him.

"He says you ought to leave her alone," Mission translated. "This is Aithne's battle, and he says she's going to have to face it without you at her side." Then she turned to Zaalbar. "Yeah, but, Big Z, couldn't we go make her feel better? She has to be nervous…" Mission bit her lip, and sat down on a bunk. "I don't want her to die," she murmured. "You can't want her to die, either, Zaalbar. She's your lifedebt!"

Zaalbar rumbled at her, placing a comforting paw across the teenager's slim back. Carth sat on his bunk, thinking.

Aithne was a fighter. He knew that much. But he had no idea what kind of swoop racer she'd make. And for Gadon to send her in on a ticking time bomb! He'd seen her face when she left the room: all hard and pale. Determined, but so, so frightened.

A little feeling of guilt tugged at Carth's consciousness. Technically he was Aithne's superior officer in the chain of Republic command. He was responsible for her. He could have volunteered to race the bike for the Beks in her place.

Carth knew that to everyone except the dead, he was very replaceable. The Republic had thousands of good pilots. Perhaps they weren't as experienced as Carth, but there were many just as good.

Carth didn't know whether Aithne was replaceable or not. She had no family, no friends, and no true occupation. She had no real loyalties. But Bastila had requested this impossible woman, this unpredictable, raw recruit out from among hundreds of far more experienced soldiers she might have had under her command. Carth couldn't honestly say there wasn't a reason for it. He'd seen Aithne fight. He was beginning to have a sense of what she could do beyond the battlefield, after watching her get things done and make allies on every level of Taris in just a few days. But how valuable was this Aithne Morrigan to the Republic, to be requisitioned as she had been? How valuable was she to the Jedi?

Personally at this point, Carth thought Aithne had much more to live for than he did. She had picked up two dependants the day before. Zaalbar and Mission would follow her everywhere, from here on out. That was enough in of itself to be a reason to get up in the morning. Carth didn't have one, except revenge.

But whereas Carth had no idea what kind of swoop racer Aithne would make, he was fairly certain he'd make a bad one. He was much heavier than she was, at any rate, and he didn't know but that her reflexes might be better, too.

He was beginning to know her, too, and he suspected that even had he suggested he ride the bike she would have refused the replacement. They had dropped formalities to begin with, but it was funny, regardless, how quickly Aithne had taken charge. They were operating on her plan, with her allies, and Carth suspected that he was lucky that when he made suggestions she listened. Carth grimaced. It would be so easy for her to subvert the entire mission…

He put his head in his hands. He didn't really like thinking that way about Aithne. It felt wrong to suspect every minute that she might betray their mission, not to mention the hell she gave him for it every time he even halfway brought it up. And, to be honest, he couldn't imagine how she could hide any treacherous thoughts from him. He'd noticed already: every emotion and thought the woman had flickered across her expressive face. And she was so forthright, and funny, and compassionate. Carth kicked the floor in frustration. The floor squeaked as his boot ran across it.

Zaalbar looked at him sharply, growling inquiringly. Carth shook his head, but decided he'd get out, later. He had to talk to her.

Late that night, after supper and a few of their Bek friends had distracted Mission and Zaalbar, Carth was able to get away. He found Aithne in the mechanic's room, alone. She sat on the floor, drawing circles on the modified swoop with her finger. She'd be riding it tomorrow.

Her face was a study. Carth's heart clenched. "You don't have to do this," he blurted. She looked up, startled. Her eyes were wide, and the fear Carth saw in them put him suddenly in mind of a very young girl. But she shook her head.

"I've only ridden a swoop bike once," she confessed, her voice quiet. "On a dare. I was sixteen. I beat the old hands by two seconds, but that thing scared me to death." She laughed a little. "And this one has a better chance of blowing up than that one did. I'm terrified."

"Aithne…"

She shook her head again. "This is our best chance, Carth, and maybe our only one. I'll be fine." Her voice lacked conviction, though. "Tomorrow morning, I want you to take Mission and Zaalbar back to the apartment," she instructed. "Clean it up. It was fine for you and me, but I imagine Bastila the Jedi might like things a little tidier. If I'm not back by ten tomorrow night…" She took in a deep breath. "Then you guys work something out." She picked up a datapad laying next to her, and handed it to Carth. He crouched down beside her to receive it. It had a row of numbers on it. "In that case, you should get off Taris, find the nearest Republic base, and tell them what happened. This is my account number. They freed my assets a few weeks back, when I gave the Republic my word of honor I'd see the war through. With the money there, I want you to enroll Mission in school, on the safest planet you can find. She's a smart kid. She'll do well. I want her to have a life. Tell Zaalbar to stay with Mission. They'll both be happier that way."

At this, Carth sat next to her. "Shut up," he said, fiercely. He gave her the datapad back. "Talking like that – you're leaving the option open for you to fail. You're not going to fail. You're going to be fine. Tell yourself that, now. Tell me that."

"I'm going to be fine," Aithne repeated. But she wasn't looking at him.

"Listen," he said. "Tomorrow at twenty hundred hours, you'll be back. You'll be Taris swoop champion, and you'll have Bastila with you. And _together_, the five of us will get off this planet. You've raided the Vulkar base, liberated an entire village from a life of despair and poverty, and you can handle this. Got it?" Aithne still wasn't looking at him. A flash of anger surged through Carth. He grabbed her chin, and forced her to look at him. "Got it, Aithne Morrigan? Do you think you're going to die?"

Aithne blinked up at him, mouth slightly open. She appeared to think for a moment. Then her gaze cleared, and she smiled. "No," she said quietly. "I'm not going to die. I think I'll see you all again. Thank you, Carth."

Carth smiled back. She was beautiful, he thought, so beautiful and so brave to risk herself like this. And she'd do it, he knew. She'd win. He realized he hadn't released her chin yet. She was still looking at him, eyebrows tilted in question. She trusted him, he realized. Not just not to sabotage everything, but beyond that. His eyes flickered to the discarded datapad beside them. Carth released her abruptly, flexing his hand. He unfolded himself and stood. Her confused brown eyes followed him. Carth suddenly wished he was five planets away. "No…no problem, beautiful," he managed. His voice came out strangely. He backed away slowly, and then turned, walking faster now. He felt her gaze as he basically ran from the mechanic's room, like it was burning a hole in the back of his jacket.

* * *

><p>BASTILA POV<p>

Bastila's body ached. Her head buzzed as that blasted neural disruptor kept trying to keep her disoriented. She'd been confined for days. She'd lost count. She'd been in a dark cell someplace. It had been small, she thought, but she couldn't quite remember. She had wondered if the Sith had captured her, if they were trying to break her.

_There is no emotion; there is peace. _

She'd realized they couldn't have when her wounds from the crash had been healed, and her clothes had been taken away. She'd been forced into a skintight, brightly colored costume, and if she remembered right the cakelike stuff on her face had been applied a few hours ago. She didn't know how she looked, but she rather felt like her chest might fall out of her get-up at any moment.

Voices. There were more of them now, and Bastila almost shrieked when they led her out into bright light for the first time in days. There were voices everywhere, and humans, and Twi'leks, and Rodians, and Duros. She appeared to be someplace very busy, and as her captors led her by the talk blazed up.

_Prize_. She was a captive. She was to be offered up as a prize. A slave. Bastila knit her brow as they lowered the cage door over her, trying to impose her will over her sluggish, disjointed thoughts. She felt the Force, like always, but fragmented, broken around her.

Now and then someone would come stand before her cage, leering at her, boasting loudly about what they'd do when they'd won….what? The race? Bastila focused. A swoop race? Was that it? The light hurt her eyes. The noises echoed and bounced around inside her skull.

Bastila heard instruments play some sort of fanfare, and then the rumbling started, and piercing cheers that nearly split her brain. Bastila clutched at the bars of her cage. Maybe when it was over the winner would remove the collar…then she'd get them. The Republic. She had to do something. She had to find something for them. What was it? Where were they?

"Hey," a voice broke into her thoughts. That voice. It echoed in her mind, but not painfully. It was like a call to wake up. That voice was important. Bastila focused in on it. For some reason a red lightsaber and a black cape flashed into her mind. The voice wasn't talking to her.

And now someone was answering, jeering at the voice."You were pretty good," said the other one. "Too bad I was better." The other one continued to taunt the important one. "You, and me, and Republic over there can have a party to make it up to you," it said. Something in Bastila stirred. How offensive! She itched to hurt the other one. She stood up a little straighter while the other one continued to boast.

The clean sound of a hand hitting a face rang out, and Bastila shook her head, dizzy. "Pig!" rang out the voice again, angry. Bastila shuddered.

Now the other one was angry, too. He threatened the important one. Who was it? Bastila tried to remember where she'd heard that important voice before. The Force pulsed around her, swirling, beginning to feel more normal.

"I bet that you'll regret things a whole lot more when you lose!" said that voice. The Force surged again, and Bastila grabbed onto it like a lifeline.

Hours later, the Force was there, whole, and Bastila was using it to see the mechanisms of the neural disruptor. Things were making more sense now, though Bastila had been careful to continue to duck her head and look dizzy. She was at the swoop track. She was the prisoner of the Black Vulkar swoop bike gang on Taris, and was being offered up as their share of the prize in the annual swoop race.

A _prize_ in a _swoop race_. The thought made Bastila want to kill something. If only she hadn't lost her lightsaber…It was humiliating! Unbelievable! She'd never live it down! That is, if she ever made it off the planet. Bastila knew that whoever won would put her under heavy guard at first. She'd have to keep a sharp eye out for a chance to escape.

The races were drawing to a close. It seemed another gang-not the Vulkars- the Hidden Beks, had sponsored the rider that was in the lead. From what Bastila could gather, the rider, a woman, had broken the all-time Taris swoop record, and no one had come within eight seconds of her. She heard the fanfare again, and waited.

"Ladies and gentleman," the announcer was saying. "I present to you the winner of this year's swoop race, Addie Faith! Put your hands together and show your appreciation for one of the most daring riders this swoop track has ever seen!" Bastila heard the swoop fans going wild, and thanked the Force the sound no longer hurt. "Through your skill and courage," continued the announcer, "you have proven yourself the premier swoop rider on Taris, and brought great glory to the Hidden Bek gang! Now, here to present the champion's prize, Brejik, leader of the Black Vulkars!"

Bastila watched from under her eyelids as her captor strode up to the stage. He looked angry. Bastila fought a sudden surge of hope. "People, hear me," he cried to the audience. "Before I present the so-called champion of the Beks with her prize, there is something you should know! The winning rider cheated!"

Bastila couldn't see the winner's face- this Addie Faith- but she saw her stance shift and the vibroblades on her hips move ever-so-slightly. "I know you wouldn't be trying to cheat me, Brejik," she said cheerfully. Bastila kept her face passive only with great effort. It was the same voice, she thought! The same familiar voice that had snapped her out of her stupor this morning!

Brejik rounded on Addie, fury written all over his face. "Your swoop bike was using a prototype accelerator," he accused, jabbing a thick, dirty finger in her face. "Clearly an unfair advantage! Because of this Hidden Bek treachery," he announced to the stadium. "I'm withdrawing the Vulkar's share of the victory prize!"

Addie Faith unsheathed her vibroblades. Bastila swallowed, preparing to act if necessary. The announcer wrung his hands anxiously. "You can't do this, Brejik! You know the rules: nobody's allowed to withdraw a victory prize after the race. It goes against all our most sacred traditions!"

Brejik laughed harshly. "You old fool! Your traditions are nothing to me," he declared. "I am the wave of the future! If I want to withdraw the prize and sell this woman out on the slave market myself, nobody can stop me!" Bastila determined to act. If she stayed passive, things might just get worse for her. Her guards looked to be fighting- perhaps she could escape in the melee.

"Maybe not," said Addie, "but we can sure try."

The Force sang out again, flying to the swoop race winner. It streamed past Bastila, and she seized it, popping open the disruptor collar at the same moment Addie drew her vibroblades. Bastila shoved the cage door open. "I might have something to say about that, Brejik," she announced. Bastila launched herself at one of the guards, felling him with a flying kick to the throat. She felt the windpipe go flat. She snatched his double-bladed vibrosword and took up the guard position.

Spectators had begun to evacuate quickly, seeing how the winner had drawn her swords and the prize had gone mad and killed a guard. Brejik stared at her. "What? Impossible! You were restrained by a neural disruptor! How could you have possibly summoned the will to free yourself?"

Bastila saw a few gang members, in different colors than the Vulkars, making their way to the woman Addie Faith's back. Excellent. The Beks and Vulkars _would_ kill each other, and she could escape in the confusion. But she'd at least get Brejik first.

"You underestimate the strength of a Jedi's mind, Brejik," spat Bastila. "A mistake you won't live to regret."

Brejik darkened with rage. "Vulkars!" he shouted. "To me! Kill these women! Kill them all!"

In a single flying leap, the woman Addie Faith jumped to Bastila's side and took a place at her back. Bastila was annoyed. Right after Brejik she had planned on killing the swoop champion. She was no one's prize. She didn't need Addie and her friends looking for her alongside the Sith. But now as a result of Brejik's command they were on the same side, at least temporarily. Bastila parried a stroke from a Vulkar, kicking him back and shoving her right vibroblade through his stomach. Behind her, Addie was fighting with grace, but Bastila sensed annoyance rising from her, too.

"Brilliant," the woman shouted over the melee, viciously slicing a swoop racer's arm off. "Applauding your 'strength of will' and all, but did you have to mention to everyone present that you were a Jedi?"

Bastila processed the sarcasm with some surprise. Did Addie Faith know, then? Was she a Sith? And _who_ did that voice remind her of? Bastila beheaded a Vulkar guard attacking her with a fluid sweep of her blade, grimacing as the blood spurted. Oh, she wished for her lightsaber. She turned with the woman, though, and as one, they attacked Brejik. "Aithne Morrigan," called the swoop champion to Bastila. The name sent another uneasy feeling through Bastila, like the woman's voice, she thought it should mean something to her. And hadn't the announcer called her Addie Faith?

Aithne delivered a strong kick to the Vulkar leader's stomach, and Bastila decided she didn't care. The woman could fight. "Bastila Shan," she shouted, dodging a sweep from Brejik's vibroblade and dealing a blow to his shoulder.

Aithne dashed into a millisecond gap in his defense, and stabbed him to the heart. He fell dead at her feet. Wasting no time, the woman knelt beside him, expertly searching him. She stuffed a few items into a nearby pack that lay forgotten by the wayside, and then held up a double bladed lightsaber.

Bastila almost cried out, but the woman had already tossed it to her. "This yours?"

"Yes," said Bastila, activating the saber. Twin blades of yellow light slid from the hilt with a hiss. Bastila deactivated it, and looked at the woman, who was gathering her pack.

"Well maybe those bloody Vulkars will think twice next time before trying to keep a Jedi prisoner," she snarled. "And as for you, Aithne Morrigan, if you think you can collect me as a prisoner…" She stopped.

Aithne Morrigan, swoop champion, had turned and faced her full on for the first time. And Bastila recognized her. Oh, she recognized her. The woman before her looked very different than she had the last time Bastila had seen her. Her hair had grown out, and her eyes had faded to a warm golden brown. Her skin had more color, but she was undeniably the woman Bastila had seen last sixteen months ago, and every night in her nightmares since, alone on the bridge of a ship…it figured that the entire _Endar Spire_ would go down and _she_ would survive.

"I don't believe this! You're…" she regained her composure. Because of course she couldn't know. "You're one of the soldiers with the Republic Fleet, aren't you? Yes, I'm sure of it. How did you end up racing for these swoop gangs?"

"I'm here to save you," explained Aithne. "Did they hurt you?"

Bastila made a face. "No. I suppose Brejik was saving that for whoever ended up with me." Suddenly she was angry. This woman had tried to rescue her? Why had it taken her so long? Anyway, it wasn't as if Bastila had needed saving. Not by _her_. "Was saving me what you were trying to accomplish by riding in that swoop race?" she demanded. "Well as far as rescues go, this is a pretty poor example." Bastila was sure she could have done much better. She _had_ done much better.

Aithne clenched her fists, annoyed. "Well, I'm glad to see you, too," she said, very quietly.

"In case you hadn't noticed, I managed to free myself from that neural restraint collar without your help," Bastila informed her. "In fact," she stated, her voice growing smug. "It's more accurate to say that I saved you! Brejik and his Vulkars would have left you for dead if I hadn't stepped into that fight. You're lucky I was here to get you out of this mess!"

"Well of all the arrogant little twits!" gasped Aithne incredulously. "For one thing, I believe you started that fight, and as I recall, you didn't manage to break free until I came along! You were helpless!"

Bastila sneered. "I may have been a prisoner, but a Jedi is never helpless. Maybe you've heard of a little thing called 'The Force'?" Aithne looked murderous. "But I suppose I shouldn't be too hard on you," Bastila admitted, rolling her eyes. "You did _try_ to save me, after all, even if it didn't turn out _exactly_ as you planned. So let's get down to business-we're not out of danger yet."

Aithne snorted. She crossed her arms, looking down at Bastila. She was annoyingly tall for a woman, Bastila reflected. "Especially since you announced to basically everyone in the Lower City that you're a Jedi,"

Bastila didn't exactly know what to say to that. She supposed that had been a bad move. She suddenly felt very young, very stupid, and very short. She decided to ignore it and hope Aithne didn't mention it again. She drew herself up. "If I'm going to figure out a way for us to get off this planet I need to know what kind of resources we can draw on," she said. "First, are we the only two survivors left from the _Endar Spire_?"

Aithne bristled. "Carth and I are _already_ working on a plan to get off Taris," she informed Bastila icily.

Bastila felt like collapsing in relief. Carth Onasi! If _anyone_ could keep _her_ in line it was Carth. Besides that he was a good, dependable, trustworthy officer of the Republic. Bastila liked him. "Carth Onasi is alive? Finally some good news!" she exclaimed.

"And my survival isn't?" muttered Aithne.

"Carth is one of the Republic's best soldiers," explained Bastila, feeling almost friendly. "He's proven himself a hero a dozen times over! And he sent you here to save me?" She regarded Aithne, wondering what the woman had done since signing on with the Republic.

"Maybe I misjudged you," she admitted. "Carth wouldn't have sent you if he wasn't confident in your…abilities. Forgive me. Despite my training, I still tend to act a bit rashly sometimes. Please, take me to Carth right away! Between the three of us I'm sure we can figure out some way to get off this planet before the Sith realize we're here."

Aithne stared at her for a moment, and Bastila felt uncomfortably judged. A Jedi of her talents, of her unquestionable loyalty to the Republic, an of her unfailing uprightness. To be judged by _her. _But then Aithne's face softened. She extended a hand to Bastila, and Bastila shook it.

"Alright, Jedi Shan," said Aithne. "But we have to get you changed first. That outfit sticks out like an alien in the Upper City!"

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><p><strong>AN: How's the multi-POV working out? Leave a review!**

**May the Force be with you,**

**LMSharp**


	8. Getting to Know You

**Disclaimer: Knights of the Old Republic and the places and characters within are not my property, much as I wish they were.**

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><p>Chapter Eight<p>

_The clash of lightsabers. Yellow on red. A Dark Jedi fell, my last line of defense. I looked regretfully at the child who had felled him, a mere girl. I was so tired of the killing, but what else had I? The galaxy needed me, even if I had to raze the Republic to save it. I twirled my lightsaber. It hummed, thirsting for the girl and her companions' blood. She would have to die. The girl shook in her cookie-cutter Jedi boots, terrified, totally unprepared to match my power, but gave me stare for stare. _

"_You cannot win, Revan," she declared, with commendable steadiness. I almost laughed. Of course I would win. I always did. But, still, 'twas a pity. She was brave. She'd make an excellent Sith._

_Suddenly, pain. A jolt, and a fire all through my body. Anger! He'd betrayed me, the coward! After all we'd done, after all we'd shared! We would have ruled the galaxy together. I cursed his name inwardly, as my lips did not seem to respond. Every part of me hurt, and I could feel my life slipping away. I couldn't feel the deck beneath my back anymore, and my eyes were failing. The last sight I saw before the world faded to black was that Jedi girl, staring down at me, uncertainty in her eyes._

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><p>"Aithne, are you quite all right?" asked Bastila worriedly. Aithne jolted. "You've been staring at that wall for about five minutes," Bastila said.<p>

Aithne was shaken. She didn't often get these types of visions during the day, though she sometimes thought when she woke that she'd had dreams of ships and battle. This vision was the first one she'd had in a year at least, and the first she'd ever had where she'd recognized something. She stared at Bastila. The vision had been of her! She'd been the Jedi girl in the vision. Bastila had looked at her and called her 'Revan'. Aithne had just had a vision, then, from the perspective of the most brilliantly evil Sith Lord in living memory: Darth Revan.

"Sorry," she mumbled, refusing to look into Bastila's probing blue eyes. Instead, she looked around. Apparently, the vision had hit her just a few feet away from their apartment. At least it had waited until after they'd left the Lower City. Aithne couldn't imagine what might have happened if she'd stared off into space like an idiot for five minutes together down there. She recollected herself with a shudder.

"C'mon, Bastila, it's just through here."

Aithne was hardly through the door before she was nearly bowled over by a pale-faced Mission.

"You're back!" she cried, hugging Aithne enthusiastically.

/I told you she would make it, Mission,/ chided Zaalbar, black eyes amused amidst his mass of hair. /Aithne is a fighter./

Carth stood back, but smiled approvingly. Aithne thought for a moment she saw a trace of Mission's relief in his face, too. Looking around, she noticed that he'd followed through on her instructions. He and the others had cleaned the apartment. Dust no longer coated the furniture, and there were two makeshift bedrolls on the floor, and another on the couch. The window out to the balcony gleamed, and a breathtaking view of the Tarisian skyscrapers was visible beyond it. Not bad for a base, Aithne thought.

Aithne hugged Mission back, then stepped away.

"Commander Onasi, Mission, Zaalbar, may I present Jedi Knight Bastila Shan?" she asked, eyes twinkling. She stepped aside, and Bastila swept into the room, all pomp and circumstance. Aithne bit back a laugh.

"Jedi Shan, may I present Commander Carth Onasi, Mission Vao, and Zaalbar?" Aithne continued, nodding to each of her companions in turn.

"But that means you won, Aithne!" said Mission. "Congratulations!" Bastila looked askance at her, and Mission flushed, and bowed awkwardly. "Pleasure to meet you, of course, Jedi Shan." The formality sounded awkward coming from the teenage Twi'lek. Aithne imagined Carth had taught it to her. She smiled.

Carth strode forward, and bowed. "Bastila," he greeted her. Aithne imagined he was high enough in rank to forget the formalities, because Bastila didn't mind Carth's neglect of her title. "Finally things are looking up," he said to the group as a whole. "Now we just need to figure out a way to get off this planet."

A small worry line appeared between Bastila's brows. "You mean you don't have a plan to get off Taris yet?" she asked incredulously. "What have you been doing all this time?"

The implication irritated Aithne. "We were trying to find you, remember?"

Bastila sniffed. "I see. Now that I'm back in charge of this mission, perhaps we can start doing things properly. Hopefully our escape from Taris will go more smoothly than when you 'rescued' me from Brejik."

Aithne felt her cheeks heat up, and Carth stiffened. "Now see here, Princess-" Aithne began hotly, but Carth cut her off with a look.

"I know you're new at this, Bastila," he put in, much more calmly than Aithne. "But a leader doesn't berate her troops because things aren't going according to plan." More severely, he added, "Don't let your ego get in the way of the real issues here."

Bastila inflated like an offended toad, but Aithne couldn't help realizing that Carth was right. Bastila was very young. She was maybe five or six years younger than Aithne herself, only twenty-two or twenty-three. Carth had said that she'd been with the strike team that killed Darth Revan, but this was probably the first mission she'd ever led. Aithne felt a rush of sympathy for the girl. Her ship had been shot down, she'd been captured and had thought she would be enslaved for the past several days, and now she had to work together with complete strangers to find a way off a planet full of enemies determined to either exploit her talents or kill her dead. Aithne supposed _anyone_ in that situation would have an excuse to be a little cranky.

"That hardly strikes me as an appropriate way of addressing your commander, Carth," Bastila said coldly, and Aithne's newfound appreciation for the girl nearly evaporated. Sure, she was stressed. But she had no call to be so annoying, impolite, and ungrateful. "I am a member of the Jedi Council and this is my mission." She looked pointedly in Aithne's direction and added, "Don't forget that! My Battle Meditation has helped the Republic many times in this war, and it will serve us well here, I am sure."

Carth shook his head. "Your talents might win us a few battles," he told the girl gently, as if he were speaking to a younger, wayward sister. "But that doesn't make you a good leader." He crossed the room to stand at Aithne's side, subtly lending her his aid. "A good leader would at least listen to the advice of those who have seen more combat than she ever will!"

Aithne nodded, emboldened by Carth's support. But she also recognized the merit of his more respectful approach, and tried to keep her voice calm as she added, "He's right. You aren't showing much leadership ability right now, Bastila."

Bastila glared, and Carth continued, annoyance creeping into his voice now, "You know, I had my doubts about this mission, and here you are, acting like a spoiled child!"

"That makes three," Aithne murmured, and Mission smiled as she remembered Aithne's joke about her and Carth in the sewers. Bastila looked confused for an instant, but she had deflated. Apparently Carth's words had gotten through to her.

"I see," she said quietly. "It's true that I don't have much military experience; perhaps I should not be so quick to judge. Very well, what do _you_ suggest?" She aimed her apology and question at Carth. She said nothing, but aimed her body so she was very clearly excluding Aithne. Aithne fumed. What was the girl's problem with her?

"First of all," Carth said firmly. "We can't get hung up on who's in charge; we all need to work together if we want to get off this rock. The answer's out there, we just have to find it."

His eyes darted from Aithne to Bastila, staring them down and daring them to argue with him. Aithne bowed. She still wasn't very excited about cooperating with the Jedi girl. She felt both drawn to and repelled by her. Bastila's position invited her sympathy, but the girl's attitude so far had been irking at best. And there was that vision to consider as well. Aithne poked at it in her mind like a sore tooth.

When Bastila nodded, though, Aithne knew she'd be able to work with her, at least, even if she wouldn't enjoy it. They'd been setting up dynamics between the three of them, and Aithne could tell how it would work. Mission and Zaalbar were hers, by Zaalbar's pledge to her. Carth had shown that though he didn't exactly trust her, he was clever enough to know a good plan when he heard one. Aithne could work easily with him. And Bastila had just demonstrated that she would follow Carth. It wasn't the best situation, but Aithne could live with it.

"Well said, Carth," Bastila was saying. "The sooner we start looking the better; I've already been a prisoner of the Vulkars, and I don't plan on being captured by the Sith." Her hands tightened around her lightsaber hilt, ferocity and nervousness both plain on her face.

The nervousness touched something in Aithne, and before she knew it, she had blurted, "Don't worry, I won't let that happen!" It was a promise, a vow beyond the one she'd made to the Republic, and briefly Aithne wondered why she'd said it. But when Bastila shot her a look of gratitude, Aithne found she wasn't sorry.

"I think we'll need some more help getting off Taris," Bastila went on. Now she had moved, and was facing the entire group. Her tone, too, was humbler, and Aithne found herself liking the Jedi the better for it. "Maybe if we ask around one of the locals can help us out. We should probably start by asking around in the cantinas."

"I'm local," said Mission indignantly. "I'm here, ain't I?"

"As helpful as I'm sure you are," Bastila said condescendingly, "I rather doubt you have access to Sith launch codes or a starship."

Mission's face fell. "Sorry, Mish," Aithne said. "I'll tell you what, though, if we have to shoot up some Sith on the way out, I'll let you help me, okay?"

Mission nodded eagerly. "Okay! I owe the Sith. Bunch of bullies! They're worse than the Vulkars!"

Aithne turned to Bastila and Carth. "We'll go ask about first thing tomorrow," she promised. Carth nodded, and Bastila looked gratified that her advice was being taken. "Right now, I need to think."

Aithne turned away from her companions and walked out to the small balcony in the back of the apartment. She closed the door behind her, and took a deep breath. The night air filled her lungs, clean and crisp. Aithne could hear the hubbub of the city from below. The lights of the city sparkled and shone. Aithne marveled at the sheer volume of life on this planet. Even in the grime and filth of the Lower and Under-cities, Taris teemed with life. Each life- each man, woman, alien, child, and slave- was precious. Aithne didn't know hardly anyone on the planet, but she would fight to make sure that Bastila escaped Taris, so the Sith would be defeated, and all this life would be preserved.

Aithne frowned. She didn't understand how Revan had done it. How Malak and the Sith still did it. They seemed to kill without thought or remorse. They crushed the galaxy in their wake. Aithne supposed Revan had died for her crime. It was disturbing, though, how much Aithne had related to her vision. She had been able to slip into the emotions of the Revan-persona remarkably well. Pride. Weariness. Even pity. Revan was not nearly so unfamiliar as Aithne would have liked her to be.

Aithne heard the sound of a door opening and closing softly behind her, and soft footsteps announced someone's approach. Aithne did not turn. Maybe they would go away.

"Is something wrong?" came the light, cultured voice of Bastila. Her voice contained too much concern for comfort. Aithne _liked_ hating her.

"Go away, Bastila," she sighed.

"You seem as if something is troubling you," persisted the Jedi girl.

Aithne resigned herself reluctantly to the fact that even Bastila had likable qualities such as compassion and curiosity. "Remember outside the apartment?" she asked. "When I stared off into space for five minutes?"

Bastila nodded. "I do. Did something happen?"

Aithne shrugged. "I had a vision. I get them, sometimes: places and people I've never seen before. Very strange things. It doesn't happen often. But this time you were in it."

She felt Bastila tense beside her in the close confines of the balcony. She turned to look at the Jedi. Wariness and fear were writ on almost every feature. "You had a vision of me?" she asked shortly, in a sharp, high tone. "What happened?"

Aithne gripped the railing. She knew why she found her vision alarming. She had no idea what might be bothering Bastila, so she decided to give the girl the information she asked for, in hopes the Jedi would reciprocate. "You were fighting a Dark Jedi. Revan. You said she could not win."

She didn't tell Bastila that in the vision, she had been Revan. She had a feeling that that would alienate the girl all the more, and Carth already distrusted her. She didn't need Bastila's enmity as well.

Bastila looked her up and down nervously, and then seemed to reach a decision. "This is strange," she murmured. "Such visions are often a sign of Force sensitivity. You say you've had them before?"

Aithne was taken aback. "Yes, but what do you mean by Force sensitivity?"

Bastila hesitated. "I'm…I'm not sure. It may be that you have some connection to the Force. It would not be unheard of. When we first met, your natural talent may have fed off my own Force abilities. It is possible that in the excitement of today the Force allowed you to witness one of my more intense memories."

She shuddered. Apparently the day when Revan fell had not been a happy one for her. "It sounds as if you don't really know what you're talking about," muttered Aithne, shifting uncomfortably.

Bastila nodded, acknowledging the possibility. "The Force is complicated: even I with all my training cannot fully understand it yet. This is a matter best left to the wise masters of the Jedi Council. Once we escape Taris we can seek the guidance of the council, if you wish. They will understand the significance of your vision, if there is any."

Aithne tensed. She didn't want to be poked and prodded and ask questions by a bunch of magical do-nothings. "There isn't any," she said harshly. "I don't want to go consult the Council."

Bastila looked surprised. Then, hesitantly, she nodded. "I think it would be best if we stayed focused on the task at hand right now, anyway. We can't afford any distractions. We need a way off Taris."

"We'll work on it, Bastila," Aithne sighed.

Bastila recognized the dismissal for what it was. "I'll leave you to your thoughts, then, Aithne." She bowed, and left.

Aithne considered Bastila's words, even more disturbed. Force sensitive? Enough that Bastila would suggest consulting the Jedi Council? She gripped the railing until the cold metal threatened to bruise her hands. She didn't want any connection to the Force! She didn't want to be of interest to the Jedi Council. She wasn't even happy that she was apparently of interest to Bastila. For all that, Aithne thought ironically, the Jedi girl didn't seem too happy she'd made it.

She looked wistfully out over Taris. Down there, millions of people went on with their daily lives. And on other planets, even more so. Men and women lived and died and married and had children without a care for Republic or Jedi or Sith. Aithne had never lived what one could consider a normal life. Ever since she'd left Deralia over twelve years ago she'd wandered from planet to planet, learning everything she could, making no ties, and moving often. But now, she felt herself wishing that she could just run away and hide out somewhere, away from arrogant Jedi princesses that told her she had Force powers, away from soldiers that told her it was somehow her duty to keep the galaxy from burning, away from Wookiees and Twi'leks that had sworn to follow her for life. She wished for a home and a family. She wished for no worries, no cares, but those of an ordinary woman with a husband and children, in an ordinary community, on some dull planet where no one even cared who ruled or what threat lurked.

The gray picture only held its charm for about half a second. Aithne laughed, conceding such a life would be far too boring to hold her for any length of time. Still, there was something to be said for domestic joys, and Aithne would have liked, at least, to have had the option. Aithne heard the door open and close again. Aithne sighed. Couldn't they just leave her alone for a bit?

"What are you thinking about, beautiful?" came a voice, this time warm and male. Aithne wished, for a moment, to relax into the sound. It made her feel secure and wanted. She grit her teeth against the impulse. For a moment last night she'd thought he did care a little bit, or that he could. He'd come to find her, been so fierce about her survival. But then he'd run out like a rancor beast had been after him. She rounded on him.

"What do you want, Carth?"

Carth held up his hands. "What did I do?"

Aithne laughed. "Nothing," she said. That was just it. He _hadn't_ done anything. Just been clever and good and handsome and completely paranoid and uninterested. "Nothing," she repeated bitterly. "Go. Stay. I don't care." She turned around again, drooping.

It wasn't enough of a discouragement. Carth came up beside her. Aithne was all too conscious of his warmth mere inches away in the chill. She edged as far away as the small balcony allowed.

"It's a beautiful night," he offered eventually, tone slightly uncertain.

"Oh, absolutely gorgeous," Aithne said, her voice heavy with sarcasm. She turned to him. "Look, Carth, we're working together. I like you just fine. But don't act like we're on better terms than friendly working companions. Not when you ran last night like I was some rhakghoul fiend or something. Not when I still don't know why you are the way you are. If you want to tell me why your voice drips hatred when you discuss the traitors after the Mandalorian Wars, we might have something to discuss. We might have a hope of actually getting somewhere."

Carth stiffened beneath the onslaught. "I thought I said I didn't want to talk about it anymore."

"Yeah?" Aithne challenged. "Well I do. I want to know the nature of these brick walls I keep running into. And I think you want to tell me, too. Otherwise you wouldn't be out here. There's nothing we can talk about regarding the escape plan until tomorrow, and what else are we going to discuss? Holo actors? Daisies in springtime?"

"Listen, sister, just because we're working together doesn't mean you get to badger me with constant questions!" Carth snapped. "I haven't gone digging around in your past, have I?"

"Go ahead," Aithne said. "I've nothing to hide and nothing to be ashamed of! What am I going to tell you? How my father raised me but died when I was sixteen? How I've taken on freelance translating and scouting missions for random companies ever since? If you haven't read my file front to back at least five times over, my name isn't Aithne Morrigan. No family, no friends, no love for the Sith, and no loyalty to the Republic. Press-ganged into the service. You've read what I'm capable of, and by now you've seen it. What else is there? For you, there's more. Don't even tell me there's not. So talk, Carth. Or don't bother."

"Blast it if you aren't the most frustrating woman to talk to!" burst out Carth. "Isn't there someone else you can harass for a while?"

"Who's harassing whom?" Aithne parried, eyebrows raised. "You came out here, remember, flyboy? And you say I'm frustrating!" Her voice almost broke on the last word, and she looked away.

The fight left Carth's face immediately. "What? Me? What did I do?" he asked, worried.

Aithne choked. "You're joking, right? Where have you been?" She shrugged. "Look, I'd like to be friends, Carth. But we can't be if you're so paranoid and closed off I can't know anything about you."

Carth sighed. "Ok. I give up. You win," he said. "I suppose I…could use someone to talk to. I'm just not used to it. And I don't know why you're so interested. But here goes. When I think of all the men who have betrayed us, the one that stands out above them all is the one I respected the most. Saul."

Aithne took a moment to process the fact that Carth was actually talking to her. Then she reviewed what he had actually said. "That name sounds familiar…"she began, searching his caramel brown eyes with her own.

"With good reason," Carth said. "Admiral Saul Karath is the commander of the entire Sith fleet. He's half the reason Malak has done so well in the war. Saul was my commanding officer back when the Mandalorian wars first began," he related. "He taught me everything about being a soldier, and I looked up to him." Carth's face grew dark.

"Saul approached me before he left," he continued. "He talked to me about how the Republic was on the losing side…and about how I should start thinking of my survival. I know now that he was trying to recruit me into the Sith, but I couldn't have conceived of it back then. I argued with him and he got angry and he left. I never saw him again."

Aithne tried to hold her face impassive as her emotions raged. Finally, she managed, "You didn't think he would betray the Republic?"

"Saul was my mentor," Carth explained. "He led us to so many victories against the Mandalorians, even when things used to be at their worst. I just…I couldn't conceive of it. He…he couldn't be serious. I was wrong, of course…" he growled, "He not only left us for the Sith, he…he gave them the codes to bypass our scanners. I remember waking up as the first of the Sith bombers snuck past our defenses and began destroying half of our docked ships. I knew right away what had happened. I could have stopped him…I could have stopped it all," he finished. His face was bleak, his eyes reliving Aithne knew not how many horrible memories of the man he had trusted enabling the slaughter of his countrymen.

"Do you really believe that?" she asked gently.

"I don't know," Carth said honestly. "Maybe. He might have killed me if I'd tried, or I might have killed him. I was stupid, however, and I let him go." And the Dark Side of Carth rose up again. He said in a low, murderous voice, "I've fought Saul for years, now, and if I ever catch up to him…he will regret what he's done. He will regret it."

Aithne knew that there was more to it than that. Carth's eyes were far too haunted for his ghosts to be explained by a simple traitor commander. "Is that all of it, Carth?"

Carth sighed. "No, Aithne. It's not. But I don't want to talk about it right now." Aithne nodded, starting to grasp at last how hard this was for him. Her anger and frustration evaporated, and only her admiration and compassion for this man remained.

Gently, timidly, she laid her hand over his on the railing. Carth was absolutely still for a few seconds. Aithne held her breath. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Carth turned his hand over and gripped Aithne's.

Aithne caught his eye. "Thank you, Carth, for telling me. I'm sorry I yelled at you."

Carth nodded, touched. "You're welcome. Strangely, I'm not sorry I told you." He laughed a little. "You've got quite the temper there, beautiful."

Aithne felt her face grow hot. "Yeah, well," she mumbled, embarrassed.

"Friends?" Carth asked.

Aithne nodded. "Friends." They shook hands to seal the deal, and he smiled at her, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. Aithne turned quietly, extracting her hand from his. She felt they'd finally at least made a start tonight, but there was a long way to go yet, she knew, before he'd trust her. He was so wounded. She walked back into the apartment.

Bastila was already asleep on what had been Aithne's bed. Aithne noticed that sometime today, the others had washed the linens, too. In sleep, all the arrogance left Bastila's face, leaving only a frightened young woman. Behind Aithne, Carth closed the door to the balcony and bolted it.

"I'll sleep on the floor with Zaalbar," he offered. Aithne looked over at the couch, and smiled to see Mission slightly drooling in her sleep. She looked incredibly young, and very innocent. Zaalbar stood over her protectively. He nodded a greeting to Carth and Aithne.

"Thank you," Aithne murmured to Carth, touched by the gesture. She crossed quietly over to Mission, so dear to her even after three days. She smoothed her hand over Mission's lekku, and one of the girl's head-tails wrapped around her hand, as if Mission wanted her to stay. She nodded at Zaalbar, bowing him a goodnight. Crossing the room again, she smiled at Carth and gestured for him to turn around. He did so, and she changed into a soft nightgown she'd bought when Bastila had gotten her suit in the Lower City.

Sighing, a little wistfully, and a little contentedly, Aithne lay down to sleep herself.


	9. Plotting an Escape

**Disclaimer: The setting and characters are not owned by me.**

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><p>Chapter Nine<p>

The morning light was still pale and gray through the window when Aithne awoke the next morning. She lay on her bed for a while, running over in her mind the list of things to do today. It was remarkably short and vague, she thought. Get credits, spread her reputation, and buy or befriend her and her companions a way off Taris. She looked around. Everyone was still asleep. Zaalbar was snoring. Bastila turned over restlessly in her sleep, and Mission turned over on the couch as a sunbeam fell upon her face. Aithne stood, and dressed quickly. She took out her vibroblades and gave them a polish. When she had finished she went to the pack to grab an energy bar. Once there, she noticed Carth and the others had resupplied. There were a few fruits, and some jerky, along with more energy bars. Aithne grabbed a piece of fruit and headed out to the balcony again.

Aithne had been out there about twenty minutes, watching the sun rise over Taris, when the creaking of the door announced Bastila's arrival. Aithne acknowledged her with a nod, and Bastila nibbled at an energy bar. She came to stand beside Aithne, gripping the railing. She was silent, but every so often, she looked sideways at Aithne, blue eyes questioning. She obviously wanted to ask something, but she seemed uncertain this morning. Aithne supposed she could have been nicer to the girl, but then again, Bastila could have been nicer, too. Eventually, though, Aithne got tired of Bastila's nervous glances.

She turned, and closed the balcony door. She faced Bastila squarely. "Alright," she said. "What is it?"

Bastila's pale cheeks turned ever so slightly pink. "Just…I only joined the group yesterday evening. I know where I have been, but I must confess a total ignorance as to what has been happening to you and Carth all this time. I was wondering if you might inform me?"

Aithne stared at her. "You'd like to know how we got to the swoop track? How we rescued you?" She smirked, daring the Jedi girl.

Bastila rose to the bait. "I managed to free myself, as I recall," she said haughtily. "In fact, if I hadn't been there, Brejik and his thugs might have killed you in that fight. It's probably more accurate to say that I rescued you."

Aithne made a clucking noise with her tongue, enjoying needling the proud Jedi. "Come on, Bastila, you're not fooling anyone. You were rescued. It might have run a bit more smoothly, true, but I didn't _know_ Brejik would make a fuss. And far be it from me to claim a Jedi such as yourself can't take care of herself," she grinned. "But it was a rescue."

Bastila gave Aithne a withering glare.

Aithne shook her head sadly. "That pride's going to get you into trouble one day, Princess," she teased. "C'mon, 'fess up and say thank you. It'll be good for you."

Bastila took a deep breath. "If nothing else will satisfy you, then _thank you_. Happy?"

"That's all I'm asking," Aithne beamed. "We'll say no more about it."

"But I'm still curious about your presence at the swoop track at all," Bastila persisted after she'd recovered from her embarrassment. "It couldn't have been an easy task to find me there. Yet somehow you managed. You also avoided detection by the Sith, discovered I was a Vulkar prisoner, gained sponsorship for the race, and became Taris swoop champion. That's quite a resume."

Aithne looked down at her hands. "It took a lot of work. We had to do a lot of favors." She chuckled. "Some things that weren't fun at all, too. We tramped around in the sewers for hours searching for the Vulkar base as a favor to the Beks. Talk about your bad smells. I had a lot of help. Carth's been great. Mission and Zaalbar, too."

"Your modesty is admirable," praised Bastila, eyes warm. "But though others helped, you were the catalyst for these events."

Aithne bit her lip. She had wondered if Bastila had taken note of the dynamic. Apparently Bastila's stupidity at the swoop track wasn't a general indicator of her intelligence. She shifted uncomfortably. "I came up with some good ideas, is all. If Carth had decided we needed to do something else, I would have…" she trailed off. Bastila was looking at her with an all-too knowing expression.

"Would you?"

"I never meant to end up in charge," she said quietly in reply.

Bastila pressed her lips together and looked off into the distance behind Aithne. She took a deep, shuddering breath. "No matter," she said after a moment. "The point is that we are here working together now. Tell me what happened. Do not leave anything out."

Aithne told her. She kept her sentences short and to the point, and the entire tale took less than ten minutes. She was gratified, though, to see the Jedi girl's eyes widen in astonishment a few times. When she had finished, Bastila looked thoughtful. Finally, she said, "When you were chosen to join this mission, I doubt any of us expected this much of you." She wasn't looking at Aithne, and Aithne very much wanted to ask why she'd been chosen then, but Bastila continued, waving a dismissive hand. "A Jedi could have accomplished such things, of course, but only by drawing heavily upon the Force."

Aithne stiffened, catching the implication. "Are you saying that I couldn't have done it without the Force?" she bristled, and then forced a smile. "I think you're underestimating us non-Jedi."

Bastila shrugged. "Perhaps. But the Force works through all of us to some degree or another. There are some individuals outside the Jedi Order that we consider 'Force Sensitive'," she explained. _Not this again, _thought Aithne. Steadfastly, Bastila continued. "It is obvious to me that the Force has been working through you. There is no other explanation for your great success, though I am unsure what to make of this discovery."

Aithne digested this. Annoyance and a sudden inexplicable fear battled in her stomach. "Why do you have to make anything at all of it?" she muttered.

"Perhaps if you weren't…" continued Bastila, almost to herself, "well…if you were younger the Jedi might take you for training. But as it is…"

The Jedi girl seemed to be deciding what to do with her, Aithne realized. She didn't like the direction this was heading. "Bastila, that's enough," she said. Bastila looked up at her, startled. "My fate is my own to decide," Aithne told her.

Bastila looked offended for a moment. Then, astonishingly, she bowed her head respectfully. "I'm sorry-I've overstepped my authority. I'm speaking of things that are best left to the Jedi Council. For now, let's just accept the fact that you are…gifted. Hopefully between your abilities, my Jedi training and the skills of our companions we can find a way off this planet."

So she wasn't going to drop this. The reference to the Jedi Council confirmed it. But at least Bastila wasn't going to start making her do anything just yet. "Fine," Aithne said shortly. She looked to the door. The light had gone on within, and she heard low voices. "Shall we meet them?"

Bastila nodded gracefully and motioned for Aithne to precede her through the door. Aithne swept by her companion.

Carth and Mission were talking quietly over energy bars around the caffa table, both dressed, but Zaalbar was still snoring uproariously from his cot.

"C'mon, sleeping Beauty," called Aithne. "Get up. We all need to talk."

Zaalbar stirred. "Get up, Big Z," said Mission. "I got you three energy bars right here to get you going!"

Zaalbar rose with a grunt, and reached for the bars in Mission's outstretched hand. He shook himself, took a few healthy bites, then sat down beside Mission. Aithne sat down on his other side, and Carth moved unobtrusively so that he was between Aithne and Bastila when Aithne sat down. Aithne took note of it, though, and restrained a smile at the way he was already preparing to intercede in any altercation.

Once they had all settled, Aithne looked from Carth to Bastila, silently asking permission from both of them to address the company. After all, both were technically her superiors, and Bastila had already shown she minded. She was slightly surprised when both of them nodded.

"Okay, guys. We have a couple of things to do today," Aithne began. "The first priority for all of us is to ask around town for someone who can help us get off Taris. The longer Bastila is here, the greater danger we are all in from the Sith. However, we also are in rather desperate need of credits. Maneuver takes money, wherever you are, and I expect we'll need something in the way of it to have any chance at all."

Everyone nodded, accepting this. Aithne continued. "I think we ought to start in the cantina," she said. "The cantinas are the nerve centers of any planet, and we can make money while we're at it. Mission, Zaalbar, you any good at Pazaak?"

"Big Z's no great shakes at it," Mission piped up, "Not many people want to play a big Wookiee like him anyway, but I'm alright."

"Good," Aithne said. "You and I can play a few hands to run up our coffers. Anyone who earns money of any type keeps…" she paused briefly to make a few rapid calculations. "Sixty percent of the money, and all company members receive ten percent. That way everyone has credits to their name, but everyone is also profiting from every venture. Carth and I used the arrangement before."

Mission nodded, satisfied with the arrangement, but Bastila frowned. "If I might make a suggestion?" she put in. Aithne nodded, seeing an opportunity to smooth rumpled feathers.

"Of course you can, Bastila," she said. "This is an open floor. We're all in this together. If you have any idea of how to make this easier, by all means, speak up."

"Then I think we should keep to small groups," she suggested. "It is imperative that we not become linked together in the minds of the public. If the Sith start asking questions, it is better that they only get some information. If they capture some of us, it is better that they have only two or three of us. That way, we have the advantage, and remain in a position to rescue anyone that falls into danger on this mission."

Aithne looked at Bastila in respect. "That's a really good idea," she acknowledged. The Jedi gave her first sincere smile since Aithne had rescued her the previous day, and Aithne almost liked her for half a second.

"Me and Big Z are sticking together," said Mission before anyone else could say a word.

"I think you should," said Aithne solemnly. "If you guys can check out Javyar's while the three of us nose around up here, we can meet up around four o' clock and we'll have done a good day's work."

Mission nodded eagerly. "Ask around about the Sith quarantine and about the non-Sith ships available, but don't make it seem like you have any other purpose than idle curiosity," advised Carth.

"Chill, geezer," Mission laughed. "You think I don't know how to eavesdrop and sneak around? Big Z and I can handle it!"

"Is there anything else before we get started?" Aithne asked.

Carth looked thoughtful. Then he pulled his communicator off his wrist and tossed it to Mission. The teenager caught it in surprise. "We should be able to keep in touch, if anything goes wrong," he explained. "They took yours, Bastila?"

Bastila nodded. "Then however we split up in the future, one party should have my communicator, and the other should have Aithne's. Communication is going to be just as important as stealth here," Carth said. "Do you know how to use it, Mission?"

The girl shook her head, and Carth quickly explained it to her. When he had finished, Aithne handed the girl a few credits for lunch for her and for Zaalbar, also to pay for any games she lost. "I'll see you guys at four o' clock this afternoon, then," she said. Mission nodded, and she and Zaalbar left quietly.

"We ought to wait at least five minutes before going out," Bastila murmured, strapping her lightsaber to her hip. Aithne nodded, picking up her pack and lightening it according to what she would need that day. Carth did the same, and a few minutes later they were ready to go.

As they left, Aithne muttered to Carth, "That was a good idea about the communicators, Onasi. I wouldn't have thought of that." She realized it couldn't have been easy to trust Mission with the device, or to trust that if he didn't have the communicator, Aithne would always be around with one. Carth nodded, looking gratified by her praise.

They were just leaving the complex when a dodgy looking Twi'lek came up to her. He identified her as the Taris swoop champion, despite her denials, and said he'd been looking for her. He then told her that Canderous Ordo had an offer for her she couldn't refuse, and that he was waiting for her in the cantina.

"Canderous Ordo, is it? The Mandalorian. We keep running into him," Carth murmured.

Aithne nodded thoughtfully. "This could be interesting." She tipped the messenger and promised she'd meet Canderous. For some reason, she tingled with excitement.

She saw him right as she strode into the cantina. He stood there, completely at his ease, cradling that enormous gun of his. Other customers had edged slightly away from him. Well, he was over 6'4", and had numerous scars he obviously hadn't gotten picking daisies. Several guarded, curious glances were shot her way as she walked up to him.

Canderous raised a hand in greeting at her approach. Aithne sat down at a nearby table and motioned for Carth and Bastila to do the same. They did so. Canderous looked at her appraisingly, and then sat down as well. "Someone said you had an offer for me," Aithne said.

"It's you, is it?" Canderous growled. Aithne nodded impassively. "I saw you in the swoop race," he explained. "Very impressive. You seem like you know how to get results." Aithne realized he was also referring to their meeting in the Undercity. "That's just the kind of person I'm looking for."

Aithne already knew who he was, but she wanted to hear him say it. "Who are you?"

"My name's Canderous Ordo," the Mandalorian said. "I work for Davik and the Exchange; the hours aren't great, but they promised me a fortune to work for them and I have nothing better to do. Mandalorian mercs like me are in high demand," he boasted. Beside her, Carth shifted, and Aithne could feel his distrust of the man. Carth had spent a good portion of his life fighting against the likes of Canderous. Aithne moved casually, as if she were just getting more comfortable, so her shoulder barely touched the pilot's. He was stiff as a rock.

He instinct told her to be honest with the Mandalorian. "I ran the swoop race as Addie Faith," Aithne said. "But my name's Aithne Morrigan. What do you want?"

Canderous' face registered no surprise as she revealed her alias. "Lately Davik hasn't been paying me what he promised," he explained. "I don't like being cheated, so I figure it's time for me to break the Sith quarantine and get off this backwater planet."

Aithne's heart suddenly sped up. This was it! But then she froze. Her eyes narrowed. "What's your plan and what do I have to do with it?" she asked bluntly. "I don't have all day." Carth looked at her like she was mad, but Canderous grinned appreciatively. He looked like a shark, and some part of Aithne thrilled to the predatory smile.

"I've got a plan to escape Taris," Canderous said. "But I can't do it alone. I need someone I know can get the job done to help me. That's where you come in."

Beside Aithne, Bastila shifted. "You don't need to ally yourself with this person," she said tersely. "We should move on while we can."

"I ain't talking to you," Canderous snapped at her. "I'm talking to your friend, aren't I?"

"Bastila, don't be a snob," Aithne instructed, though she could feel the violence that rolled off Canderous in waves. Somehow, it excited her, and the fact that it did was unnerving.

"I saw you win that swoop race," Canderous continued in a lower voice, "and I started thinking. Anyone crazy enough to race like that is probably crazy enough to break into the Sith military base. I need someone to steal the Sith launch codes from the base. Without those codes any ship leaving the atmosphere will be disintegrated by the Sith Fleet's automated defense guns."

Aithne nodded, seeing the sense in his words. "Ok," she said, face impassive, "But what's in this for me?"

Canderous' eyes gleamed. "Here's the deal," he said, leaning forward. "You bring me those launch codes and I can provide the vehicle to get off the planet-Davik's flagship, the _Ebon Hawk_!"

Aithne thought for a moment. Mission had told her about the _Hawk_. Apparently it was fast enough to outrun the entire Sith fleet.

"But how am I supposed to get inside the military base?"

"Getting in won't be easy," admitted Canderous. "The Sith base is protected by an encrypted security system. It would take a top of the line astromech droid to slice through it. Lucky for you," he said, grimacing his excuse for a smile. "I know just the place to get a droid like that. Davik was having one custom-built by Janice Nall. Just tell her Canderous sent you and she'll sell you the droid. Then you can use it to get the launch codes from the Sith base."

Aithne almost shook his hand. Then she hesitated. "Why aren't you doing this yourself?"

Canderous nodded. "Normally, I would. But everyone knows who I work for. If I broke into the base, they'd send an army down on Davik's estate to get the codes back. That's why I need you."

Aithne smiled. That was reasonable enough. She extended her hand, and Canderous shook it, nearly crushing her bones in his giant spade of a hand. "Ok, Canderous, you've got a deal."

Bastila looked searchingly at Canderous. "I don't sense any deception from him, which is surprising. This may be exactly what we need."

"I'm going to wait in Javyar's Cantina," announced Canderous. "You come find me when you've got those launch codes and I'll make sure we both get off this rock!"

As Canderous left the cantina, Aithne checked her chrono. "And it's only ten o'clock!" She brought up her communicator and switched it on, shooting Carth a look of gratitude. "Mission Vao, come in. Aithne speaking. Mission Vao, come in."

"This is Mission," came the teenager's voice, and her face appeared on the tiny viewscreen. "What do you need?"

"Things have worked out beautifully, Mish," related Aithne. "We've got a plan to get out of here, so you can cease fire on the community questioning. We're still meeting at 4, though, so continue with the credit-hunting. We're going to need the cash."

"Sure," said Mission, "But you're going to tell me and Big Z everything about the plan when we get back."

"'Course I am, Mish." Aithne smiled. "Over and out." She switched off the communicator again, and then looked at her bag. She thought of the Pazaak cards that lay within, but her blood was racing now. She looked over at the dueling office, and grinned. She looked at Carth and Bastila. "If the lady and gentleman will excuse me," she said brightly, "I'm going to become Taris dueling champion now."

Carth groaned.

"What?" said Bastila.

"Just let her go, Bastila," Carth advised. "Don't draw attention by arguing with her. She'll be back."

"You don't mean to say she's done this before?"

"She won two duels back before you came in under the alias 'The Mysterious Stranger'. She's good."

Bastila looked around. "She's gone," she observed stupidly.

Carth cracked a weary smile. "See?"

A few hours later, a sweat-stained Aithne grinning from ear to ear, her clothes ripped in a couple places came up to join them. "Twelve hundred credits!" she announced.

Carth gripped her forearm as she swayed on the spot. "Never mind that right now. Are you all right?"

"Sure flyboy!" winced Aithne, gritting her teeth. "Never been better!"

"She's lying," announced Bastila, her eye professionally checking Aithne for injuries. "She's been grazed by a blaster bolt on her lower left leg. She has a vibroblade slice on her right shoulder, and she's pulled a tendon in her dominant arm. The one you're holding."

"Sheesh, you want to tell me anything else is the matter with me, Princess?" groused Aithne.

"You're about two seconds from falling over in exhaustion," observed Carth worriedly.

"I'm sorry, but since when is your name Bastila?" asked Aithne. She hated it when she told someone she was fine and they called her a liar. At least she'd worked off the extra energy.

"Hold still, Aithne," commanded Bastila in a calm, soothing voice. "Look at me." She raised a hand, gently glowing with pale blue light, and ran it over Aithne's shoulder, right arm, and left leg. Aithne suddenly started to feel much better.

"You've cured her," said Carth, as Aithne started to breathe easier. Bastila looked a little pale, and Aithne suddenly wondered how much strength Bastila had used to heal her.

"Thanks, Bastila," she sighed, folding herself up into a chair. Bastila merely nodded, now exhausted herself. Aithne returned to her credit pieces. "Ok, that's seven hundred and twenty credits for me, and one hundred and twenty credits each for Carth, Mission, Bastila, and Zaalbar. Call it your…"

"Salaries," finished Carth with her, smiling drily, taking the credits. Bastila frowned, but followed the pilot's example.

"Now I'll get us some food. I'm starving!" she said, motioning a waiter over. She ordered a huge meal for all three of them, on her.

As the three of them ate like it was the end of a famine, color returned to Bastila's face.

Aithne soon felt completely better. "You know, of all people to be stuck on Taris with," Aithne said, "I'm glad it was you guys. Yes," she continued, seeing Bastila's incredulous stare, "you, too, Bastila. For all your superior Jedi training and how much you go on about the wisdom of the Force, you're not half bad."

"T…thank you," stammered Bastila, looking like a shy child seeing her first sunlight in an eternity. Aithne looked away from the young woman's all too obvious gratitude, and wondered when Bastila had last had a friend.

Carth seemed to be relieved the two women seemed to be getting along. As they finished up, he glanced at his watch. "We'd better head back to the apartment," he said regretfully. "It's three-thirty."

Aithne nodded, and paid for their meal without complaint. The three of them strolled companionably back to the apartment.

They were just taking their positions around the caffa table when Mission and Zaalbar strolled in.

"Just in time, guys," Aithne said, patting the ground beside her. Zaalbar flopped down heavily with a thump that Aithne was sure would disturb the neighbors below. Mission sat criss-cross between Bastila and Zaalbar.

"So what's the plan?" she asked eagerly. The light of adventure was shining in her gray eyes.

"We're going to raid the Sith military base tomorrow to steal the launch codes, so Canderous Ordo will help us to steal the _Ebon Hawk,_" Aithne announced.

Mission giggled. "No, really, what's the plan?" She was met with three even looks. "Oh, you were serious? How are we going to get in?" she asked, switching gears with an impressive grace.

"First of all, let's see your credits." Aithne whistled as Mission produced them. The girl had nabbed about three thousand credits.

"Amateurs," she laughed. "Those idiots had probably never played Pazaak in their life!"

"Mission," said Carth severely, "Did you cheat?"

"'Course," said the girl evenly. "The object was to make as much money as possible, wasn't it?"

Aithne hid a smile. In a strained voice she said, "Were circumstances any different, I'd get on to you for that."

"Why?" demanded the girl. "You ain't my mother, and I ain't no kid!"

"But you aren't any help to us at all if you get found out and gutted in a back alley," Carth pointed out. Mission flushed, and was silent.

"Just don't do it again, okay Mission?" said Aithne. Mission nodded, accepting Aithne and Carth's correction.

Bastila, in the meantime, had sorted out the credits. "Eighteen hundred to you, Mission," she said, sliding over the credits to the girl. Aithne tried not to scowl. That was more than she had made the entire day, without the split. "And three hundred to each of us," Bastila finished, distributing the money accordingly. "Oh, and you and Zaalbar get an extra one hundred and twenty off of Aithne's venture."

For a few seconds everyone was just arranging credits in purses. Finally, Aithne looked up. "Ok. Now I'm going to take a couple of people to go buy a droid. Who wants to come?" Belatedly she looked at Bastila, realizing she'd overstepped her authority again. "Oh, sorry," she said. "Do you want to go buy the droid?"

"It's quite all right, Aithne," Bastila said loftily. "I need to meditate in any case. Go ahead. I shall stay here and do so."

"I want to go!" Mission volunteered immediately. Aithne smiled.

"I'll go, too," Carth said quietly.

Zaalbar grumbled, but shook out some spare parts and went to tinker with his bowcaster.

"That's settled then," Aithne said. "I'll see you guys later,"

So Aithne, Carth and Mission headed out across town. As they passed Zelka's on their way to the Droid Shop, Aithne halted momentarily.

"C'mon," she said after a second. She tossed her pack to Carth. "Can you look through there and find the rhakghoul serum?" she asked. Carth smiled.

"You're going to give the serum to Zelka? That's great, Aithne!" said Mission.

"I don't want anyone to suffer from that horrible disease ever again," Aithne stated, her jaw firm, remembering the poor Republic soldier who had mutated right before her eyes into a monster.

Carth handed her the serum. Aithne strode into the clinic, and tapped Zelka on the shoulder. She held out the serum to the kindly old doctor. "It's the serum for the rhakghoul disease," she said, giving it to him. "Duplicate it. Sell it to everyone. I want that disease eradicated from the face and the innards of Taris." Turning on her heel, she left.

"But wait!" Zelka called. "Your reward!"

Aithne merely kept walking.

She rejoined Carth and Mission. Both stared at her in admiration. After a moment, Carth patted her on the back. Gurney, at the door, scowled.

Aithne smiled, suddenly feeling very cheerful. "C'mon guys! Let's go buy ourselves a droid!"

Janice Nall's droid shop was very clean and well kept. Aithne could tell from the many droids under construction on the wall that Janice kept busy, knew what she was doing, and had little business. As Aithne walked up to the counter, a cute little astromech droid beeped and whirred at her. Aithne rang the bell, and a professional-looking Twi'lek woman walked up. Aithne widened her eyes briefly, her respect for Janice Nall rising. As a Twi'lek running a shop in the xenophobic Upper City, Janice Nall must have determination and expertise by the spade full.

Aithne introduced herself and the others. After they all exchanged a few pleasantries, Aithne bought the droid for half-price, and left cordially, the cute beeping droid T3-M4 in tow.

Aithne, Carth, and Mission arrived at the apartment later.

"May I introduce the newest member of our little clown troupe," Aithne announced dramatically, "T3-M4. T3, say hi to Zaalbar and Bastila." The droid beeped in a friendly sort of way. Bastila smiled in spite of herself.

"I know, he's cute, right?" said Mission, patting the droid affectionately. She had taken to T3 right away. The Twi'lek had volunteered to pay half the cost of him, and Aithne had granted her half-ownership.

"T3 is going to help us break into the Sith military base tomorrow," said Aithne, face growing grim. "Bastila, does our small-group rule still apply here?"

Bastila suddenly looked as grim as Aithne, and Carth, Mission, and Zaalbar all looked up, on high-alert. "I'm afraid it does," Bastila said. "More than ever. The strike team that raids the base runs a significant risk of being caught. We can't risk capture for every member of our organization. We should probably send no more than three to do the job."

"Wait!" protested Mission and Carth on the same breath. "So who's going?" finished Carth.

Aithne had been thinking about that all day. She hesitated, then spoke. "Five of us should go to the door of the Sith base. Three to go inside, T3, and someone to take him back to base. T3 will slice into the base. Then that person and the other will split off and return to this apartment, and the remaining three will raid the base for the launch codes we need to get off the planet."

"You have to be one of the three," pointed out Bastila, looking at her shrewdly. "The Mandalorian Canderous gave the task to you."

"Yes," Aithne said reluctantly.

"Therefore, this is your mission," Bastila continued. "And don't try to tell me you don't know it. I sense no confusion from you. You have already chosen your companions."

Aithne shifted. More and more she was ending up in charge. She wasn't sure Bastila disapproved so much as she had last night, but that might be because of the delusions the Jedi had about her Force sensitivity. By continuing on she might enforce them. The whole situation made her uncomfortable. And Bastila wasn't the only person she was about to upset. "Yes," she admitted quietly. "Bastila, you will stay here. Out of all of us, you are the most recognizable; you are the one the Sith want most badly, and it would do more damage to the mission for you to be captured than for anyone else to be."

Bastila nodded, grave faced, but accepting of Aithne's reasoning.

"Mission will accompany me," Aithne said. "I promised her that should we have to shoot up some Sith on our way out, she could help me. And I'm also taking Zaalbar."

"You can't be!" Carth burst out. "I'm coming, too." Aithne winced. She'd known the protective soldier wouldn't like this.

"They know you among the Sith, too," Aithne pointed out. "Mission, Zaalbar, and I are relative unknowns. We'll have the best chance of escaping with the codes."

"I don't care," Carth said, his jaw set. "I'm coming!" Aithne read his face and saw concern clearly writ there. Concern for the mission, mostly. But there in a brief flicker of his shadowed eyes also lurked concern for her.

"No, Commander," Aithne said gently. "This is my mission, and my decision is final. You come with us to the door and no further."

Carth stiffened, stunned by the military address. But, eyes blazing, he nodded at last. Aithne nodded as well, finally dropping his gaze. He was a man of integrity. He would obey her.

"I suggest we all get some sleep," Aithne said, still with the edge of authority in her voice. It all came so naturally, commanding this little crew. But every single one of them now nodded and quietly dispersed to prepare for bed. A momentary flash of that red lightsaber and black cloak passed through Aithne's head. Shivering, she strode out onto the balcony once again.

She searched the night sky. Flashing lights of Sith ships passed over like watchful birds of prey, giving the whole city a grim feel. There were more than yesterday. Aithne felt she was coming to the end of her time on Taris, one way or another. She heard the door open a few minutes later. "I thought you'd be out here, Carth," she said. "Check it out." She indicated the sky.

Carth did a quick scan of the heavens, taking in the buzzing Sith ships. "They're getting worried," he said. "They still haven't found Bastila, dead or alive. They know left here for a couple days, we'll escape."

"And they'd be right," Aithne murmured. "I wonder what they'll do next." She remembered the weary power of her visions, the ultra confidence and corruption. She sensed an even blacker presence out there, more vibrant and evil and violent than even Revan. "Carth," she said, looking at him and suddenly edging closer. "I think Malak's out there. Something terrible is going to happen. Soon."

Carth looked at her with sympathy. "Sometimes it's hard to remember, as strong as you are, but you're just as scared as the rest of us, aren't you, beautiful?"

Aithne shrugged. "I'm scared," she admitted. "But I can't freeze. So I smile, make a joke, and move on. Like Bastila, with all that superior Jedi posturing. You know it's a front."

"I know."

"She's scared, too. I think she's more scared than any of us. Mission jokes her way through it, like I do, but she doesn't really know what we're dealing with. Not yet."

"She'd come even if she did know," Carth said, smiling sadly. "She's a good kid."

Aithne turned to him. "She is," she told him. "And she's serious about fighting the Sith. If I could, I'd leave her entirely out of it. I'd keep her safe. I wouldn't have taken her on at all, but I'd never ask her to leave Zaalbar."

Carth's expression was sad. "It's you, too, now," he pointed out. "Now that you've accepted her, made her a part of something. She'll go through hell for you, Aithne."

He meant it both figuratively and literally. Aithne swallowed, feeling suddenly sick. "If she does, she'll change. She might get hurt. But if I cut her out now, she'd just feel unwanted and useless. Do you understand?" She looked at him, trying desperately to communicate her reasoning. "And Zaalbar will protect her more than anyone, tomorrow."

Carth's jaw tightened. "You'll both be watching her," he said. "Who's going to watch you?"

"Zaalbar will do that, too," Aithne said.

"He'll focus more on Mission, life debt or not. This is so vital to our mission, Aithne. You can't get it wrong."

"Just try, Carth," Aithne sighed. "Try to trust me."

Carth held her gaze. "I am trying," he promised. He didn't say another word, and he was still tense. But he stayed with Aithne, and the two of them looked out over Taris as the Sith ships darted through the sky, staring out into the calm before the storm.


	10. The Death of a Planet

**Disclaimer: KotOR was not my brilliant idea.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Ten<p>

It was a somber party that set off from the apartment the next morning. Bastila was grim as she bade them goodbye. Carth was tense and taciturn. Zaalbar kept his massive paws close to his weapon, and his eyes constantly darted between his best friend and Aithne. Mission was pale with nervousness, and she looked slightly guilty whenever her eyes fell on Carth. Aithne looked straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge anyone's fears, nervousness, or hang-ups. She hardly blinked as she led the party through the city.

After what seemed like forever, they arrived, unchallenged, at the gate of the Sith military base. Aithne nodded to T3. He beeped, rolled forward, sliced the security in five seconds flat, and rolled away. Aithne whistled in admiration. She moved to lead Mission and Zaalbar into the base, but Carth pulled her aside.

"Aithne," he said, caramel eyes boring into her own, "Let me come with you."

"No, Carth," Aithne said evenly. She'd known he'd try.

Carth's gaze fell. He'd known it wasn't any good. His jaw tightened. "Watch Mission, then," he said, "But not so much that you forget to watch yourself. Let Zaalbar help you. Be careful. Don't get yourself killed or captured. Come back to us with those launch codes."

"Why, flyboy, I didn't know you cared," Aithne joked weakly. Carth looked at her, eyes hard. "Not the time? Sorry. We'll be careful. I give you my word of honor."

She stepped away quickly, trying not to care that she was leaving him to worry, and disappeared into the elevator that would take her down into the Sith base. She did not turn, but nonetheless felt his eyes follow her down.

"So," said Mission, as they rode the elevator down. "Did the geezer confess his undying love for you or something?"

Aithne blushed, and hated herself for it. "No. He didn't."

"Well he was thinking it," Mission shot back. "Big Z and me were talking yesterday, and he says he can smell the pheromones on you two more strongly every second you're together."

/Mission!/ roared Zaalbar at the same time Aithne said much the same.

"He's just worried about us getting captured or killed, without him here to protect us. Or worse, selling him and Bastila out," Aithne said.

"Whatever," snorted the Twi'lek. "So when are you gonna suck it up and kiss him?"

"Mission," said Aithne in her best Bastila impersonation. "My relationship, or _lack thereof_, with Carth Onasi is none of your concern. Your concern, at the moment, is helping me cut through the Sith that get between us and the launch codes."

"Fine!" Mission huffed as the elevator came to a stop. "Spoilsport!" she muttered.

The door opened, and a Twi'lek receptionist immediately asked what they were doing there. Mission said a few words to the woman in Twi'leki, and the woman left both quickly and quietly after another exchange.

"She won't tell on us," Mission said to Aithne.

"I know," replied Aithne. "I understood you. You told her what was going on and that we had no desire to hurt her, and she said she didn't like the Sith and wouldn't interfere if you wanted to shoot a few up."

"You understand Twi'leki. Right, I forgot, you're fluent in every language known to man or alien," Mission said ruefully. "What are you doing on the computer?" For Aithne was indeed messing with the receptionist's terminal.

/Checking to see what we're up against,/ Aithne replied in Twi'leki, noting the look of chagrin on Mission's face and smiling to herself. /I've already busted a conduit in the secondary barracks. Uh-oh,/

"What?" Mission asked, alarmed by Aithne's tone.

"There's a massive assault droid right before the elevator we'll need to get down to the governor's rooms. The governor will have the codes, but we have to get past that droid to get to him. I've disabled its shields, but it will still be tough."

Zaalbar nodded grimly, and ran a cloth over his vibroblade. /Where do we start?/ he asked.

/There,/ Aithne replied, pointing at the adjoining room.

The next several minutes passed in a flurry of activity and battle. Aithne led Mission and Zaalbar around the base, and soon the trio were covered in sweat and blood, not usually their own. Mission was observant, and kept well out of the way of the heavy fighting, but she was also a very good shot. She winced every time one of her shots felled a Sith, but she did not break down about it as she had about Kandon a few days ago. Zaalbar was a mighty fighter, too, striking out with accuracy and power with his enormous vibrosword. They stole everything they could carry. Best they rid the Sith of it, anyway, Aithne told the others, and they'd need supplies once they escaped Taris. Finally, they stood before the door behind which the droid lurked.

"Mission, Zaalbar, shield. Mission, switch to an ion blaster." Aithne barked out. They all did so. Aithne opened the door, and a very frightening looking droid accosted them immediately.

Aithne wove in and out. She found it surprisingly easier than she'd thought. _Is it just me, or am I fighting even better than normally?_ She jabbed here and there on the droid as Mission shot at it. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Zaalbar dispatching the defense turrets. Mission strode forward to stand beside Aithne and delivered one last shot, and the droid fell in pieces.

"Oh, good work, Mission," praised Aithne, and the teenager glowed with happiness and exhaustion.

"We can't pass out just yet, Mish," warned Aithne, "There's one last fight coming. And I've got a feeling this will be tough."

/Right. The chieftain of the Sith on this world,/ Zaalbar remembered.

Mission switched to her regular blaster again without comment, a particularly nice one Aithne had obtained for her yesterday while out getting T3. She stepped into the empty elevator.

"Well?" she called after a moment. "Come on, then!" Aithne grinned, and moved to join her friend.

When they arrived, the elevator opened on a short, eerily quiet corridor.

"The Sith governor ought to be just beyond that door," Aithne warned. "Shields up, guys."

And, striding forward, Aithne keyed open the door.

A tall, powerful-looking bald man opened his eyes. "Who dares to break my meditation?" he demanded angrily, rising to his feet and twirling a double-bladed vibrosword. "You will pay for interrupting my…wait," he said, stopping up short in confusion. "I sense the Force is strong with you," he began, directing his words at Aithne. "Very strong."

Aithne grimaced. What was it with people and her Force sensitivity, lately? _Any more of these feelings and I'll think you're a Jedi. You are marked, Up-worlder. A Jedi could have accomplished such thing, of course, but only by drawing heavily upon the Force. _"Shut up," she advised the man. "Hi. We'd like your launch codes, if you please."

The Sith governor stared at her blankly. Seeming to gather himself, he continued, "Who would have thought a Force Adept could be found on this insignificant planet?" he continued pompously. "But your talent is no match for a disciple of the Dark Side!"

"Do you even know how ridiculous you sound?" Aithne asked incredulously. "Anyways, the Dark Side doesn't accomplish any more than the Jedi do," she continued. "Look around, you're the governor. The economy is failing, morale is low, and crime is at an all-time high. Seems to me you Sith are accomplishing nothing but death and destruction with your 'Dark Side'."

The Sith Governor was obviously unprepared to deal with this. "The Dark Side is what gives the Sith strength," he replied, not even addressing Aithne's arguments. "This meeting is a stroke of luck for me-" he continued, taking a battle stance. "My master will surely reward me with my lightsaber once I kill you!"

"Great," Aithne muttered. "Only a Dark Jedi could be that stupid."

"Fine, Mr. Sith Governor," she said more loudly, taking a defensive stance herself as Zaalbar and Mission also took their positions. "For the record, I really hate to do this."

She attacked. Or, she tried to. Aithne immediately found herself immobilized by Force Stasis. She swore inside of her head, as her lips wouldn't move. What a dirty trick. Zaalbar, being a Wookiee, was less susceptible to the power, and moved forward to strike. The Sith Governor buckled underneath the blow, only to receive a shot to the side courtesy of Mission Vao. The Sith spied Mission beside the door and his eyes narrowed in hatred. He surged forward and slashed at her with his vibroblade. Aithne tried to cry out, tried to attack, but was held helpless as Mission fell without a sound. Zaalbar roared in fury, his eyes red with rage. He fell upon the governor with a rapid series of thundering blows. Aithne felt the Stasis grip on her loosen. With a wrench, she shook herself free of it and joined Zaalbar. Within seconds the Governor was down. Aithne flew to Mission's side.

"Mission!" she cried, "Mission!"

"What?" demanded the Twi'lek, her eyes opening and a grin breaking across her face.

Aithne checked her for wounds. There were none. "You faked that!" she accused angrily.

"I wasn't equipped with a melee weapon when he attacked me. But I'd shielded, remember? His blow was absorbed," the teenager explained. "I knew it wouldn't absorb many more blows, so I decided to play dead. I fell against him, and…" she paused, eyes twinkling merrily, "may I present your launch codes?"

"Don't ever scare me like that again!" Aithne demanded. Zaalbar roared in agreement. "It was, however," Aithne admitted reluctantly, "A brilliant maneuver. Well done, Mish. I'm just glad you're safe."

She hugged the girl to her.

"Alright, alright," said Mission as Aithne helped her to her feet. "Don't smother me." But Aithne could see that Mission was touched.

"Alright, alright," mimicked Aithne. "Give me those launch codes. And my purse, if you please?"

"Just keeping you alert," Mission promised cheerfully, handing both back to the older woman.

"Let's get out of here," said Aithne as a still vaguely annoyed Zaalbar rejoined them, filing away a few possessions he'd stolen from the governor's rooms.

They were unchallenged as they left and wound their way back through the Upper City. Aithne led them back into the apartment.

"You're back!" Carth said, leaping up. "It's only been a couple hours!"

"Well, turns out that Sith bases just aren't what they used to be," Aithne cracked. "We got the codes," she finished, waving them around for everyone to admire.

"I told you she would do it," Bastila said smugly, gliding forward to join Carth in welcoming the others.

"It's about lunchtime," Aithne said. "I'm going to change and go meet Canderous down in Javyar's with the codes. Carth, Bastila, he knows you guys. Come with me?"

"You bet," Carth said. Bastila nodded.

Aithne sponged off in the fresher and changed into her street clothes. Then she joined Carth and Bastila at the door. She looked at Mission and Zaalbar, both still bloody and stinking from the raid this morning.

"Mission, Zaalbar, clean yourselves up," she told them. "See you later, okay?"

Zaalbar growled in farewell, and Mission waved. "Let's go," Bastila instructed imperiously.

"Whatever you say, Princess," said Aithne cheerfully.

Carth produced the papers to the Sith at the elevator, who, luckily, hadn't been back to the base to know there was a problem yet. There was a slightly more hopeful air about the Lower City, now, Aithne reflected, and what Vulkars they met looked defeated and unorganized. The Beks were in high good humor, helping out families. Aithne saw a few of them in the streets with teams cleaning things up a little. They made it to Javyar's without much trouble.

She, Carth, and Bastila quickly spotted Canderous near the bar. Sitting down at his table, Aithne motioned a waiter over and she and her party ordered. Canderous waited, a smug look on his battle-scarred face.

"I figured you'd be back," he said as they ate. "Neither one of us is getting off this planet unless we work together. Now I know the Sith military base had a break-in. I know it was you. I know you've got those departure codes I need. So what do you say? We join forces and I can get you inside Davik's base- and right to the _Ebon Hawk_. We can go right now."

"Not so fast," Aithne said. "I have others I want to take with me."

"Right. Mission Vao, Zaalbar the Wookiee that swore a lifedebt to you, and Davik's droid I sent you to buy." At Aithne's nervous look, Canderous grinned predatorily. "I asked around. No problem. You can bring your friends when we get out of here. What you all do after our getaway is your business."

"Ok then," agreed Aithne, somewhat warily. ""Let's join up. But how are you going to get me inside Davik's estate?"

"Davik's always looking to recruit new talent," explained Canderous. "I'll tell him how you won that swoop race and mention that you're interested in working for the Exchange. I'll say I brought you in so he could check you out. He'll have you stay at his estate for a couple days while he runs some background checks on you," continued Canderous. "That's standard procedure."

"This is too risky. We should find another way," Bastila put in.

"You got another plan sister?" asked Canderous lazily, "Or are you just objecting because you didn't think of it, _Jedi Shan_." He watched Bastila out of the corner of his eye, waiting for her reaction.

Bastila paled, but kept her voice steady. "No…I don't have another plan," she admitted. "I would rather not place my life in your hands, however."

"I can say the same about you," Canderous pointed out. "That makes us even. Fortunately, we both want to get off this rock, right?"

"He has enough information to be just as much of a liability as Davik," said Aithne to Bastila, "And we won't be staying around on Taris long enough for Davik to dig up anything that could hurt us."

Bastila nodded.

"What about you, Onasi?" Canderous asked. "You in?"

Carth eyed the Mandalorian with dislike and distrust, but nodded as well.

"Right," Canderous continued, ignoring the others and addressing Aithne. "While Davik's checking you out, we steal the _Ebon Hawk_ and escape Taris. Come on, I've got an air speeder nearby to take us to Davik's estate. The sooner we're off Taris, the better."

"I want to take Bastila with me," Aithne said. "She might be handy at the base, and she more than anyone needs the quick getaway."

"Fine. We'll say she's your friend, or servant, or whatever."

"And you can start up the ship, but as soon as we pick up the others, Carth's flying it. He's been a pilot most of his life."

"Fine," growled Canderous, "can we just go already?"

"Carth, go take charge of Mission, Zaalbar, and T3," Aithne instructed. "Tell them to pack. We'll be by in three or four hours to pick you up."

"Fine," Carth said, and turned to leave.

Aithne and Bastila followed Canderous to the speeder and flew off to the estate of the Taris crime lord.

The estate was, as Aithne had expected it would be, ridiculously large and shamefully decorated. On every planet Aithne Morrigan had ever visited, the crime lords always seemed to have the worst taste. Canderous led them through the garish halls, until finally they located Davik Kang in his study with one Calo Nord, bounty hunter. As Canderous entered, Davik looked up. His eyebrows rose slightly.

"Canderous," he said in greeting, rising from his overly large and expensive-looking chair. "I see you have brought someone with you. Most intriguing, if I do say so myself. You usually travel alone."

"It's not like you to take on partners, Canderous," put in the diminutive terror that was Calo Nord, a slight edge to his voice. "You're getting soft."

"Watch yourself, Calo," growled Canderous. "You may be the newest kath hound in the pack, but you aren't top dog yet!"

Calo was reaching for his blaster when Davik intervened. "Enough! I won't have my top two men killing each other-that's not good business. I'm sure Canderous has an explanation as to why he's not working solo anymore."

Canderous nodded, relaxing. "This is a special case, Davik. I ran into someone the Exchange might want to recruit. You may have heard something of her exploits already." He bowed gravely, indicating Aithne.

"And the other?" Davik asked.

"A friend of my sister's," Aithne put in smoothly. "She's of no consequence and will do you no harm. She's not all there, you see," she added in a whisper. Bastila shot Aithne a glare but immediately put on a stupid expression. Davik nodded, satisfied.

"Ah, yes. I believe I do recognize your companion, Canderous. Isn't this the woman who's been making such a splash in the dueling ring lately? The Mysterious Stranger? Also the rider that won the big swoop race. Very impressive," Davik said, addressing Aithne. "I like your style." His words contained a subtle undercurrent that put Aithne instantly on her guard.

"It's good to finally meet you, Davik," said Aithne, keeping her gaze level and hard. "My name is Aithne Morrigan." She offered her hand to shake. Davik smiled, oozing charm in quantities that could fill up a swamp. He strode forward and kissed her hand, holding it a bit too long. Aithne tried to contain her revulsion. The man was twice her age!

"You know, Canderous was right. The Exchange is always looking for new talent. You could have a bright future with our organization. With a recommendation from Canderous-and a thorough background check-you could become part of the Exchange. Many would kill to prove themselves worthy of this honor!"

_And have, I imagine, _thought Aithne wryly. "Your offer intrigues me, Davik," was her simple reply.

"Come with me," ordered Davik. "I will give you a tour of my operations. I'm certain you'll be most impressed."

Aithne wasn't. Davik was a standard crime lord. He thought way too highly of himself, had terrible taste in decorating, and held petty grudges. Aithne attempted to discourage him from thinking she was interested, but he continued to flirt with her, ignoring her obvious signs of distress.

She grew increasingly bored and fidgety until Davik finally led her into the hangar. A beautiful ship sat there in plain view. She was streamlined and light. Aithne wanted her, immediately. She shot Canderous an admiring look. He smirked.

"Ah, there she is," Davik droned, much as he'd been for the entire tour. Aithne sighed inwardly. "The _Ebon Hawk_. My pride and joy; the fastest ship in the Outer Rim! Note the state of the art security system I've had installed to protect her. The shields are completely impregnable. Nobody can get past them without the codes to try and steal my baby. Unfortunately," the crime lord continued in a dour tone, "The Sith military blockade has grounded my vessel. The _Ebon Hawk_ can outrun any vessel in the galaxy, but even she isn't fast enough to avoid the auto-targeting laser cannons of the orbiting Sith fleet. I am, of course, working on acquiring the Sith departure codes so that I may come and go as I please. However, progress has been slow." He scowled, a small child deprived of his favorite toy. "But we should continue our tour."

After what seemed like days but was actually probably closer to fifteen minutes, Davik led them to spacious quarters in a heavily secured "guest wing". But Aithne could see that all the doors had locks, but not from the inside.

"These will be your accommodations," Davik said. "The slave quarters are just down the hall. If you need anything during your stay feel free to call upon their services. If all goes well with your background check you will be invited to join the Exchange. I'd advise you to accept the offer when it comes-or suffer the dire consequences of refusal."

There were several things Aithne might have said to that. She settled for a wary "I'm looking forward to working with you Davik."

"You will stay in these rooms as my guest for the next few days," Davik continued. "I will not accept no for an answer. I must warn you that if you are found anywhere outside the guest wing during your stay-or if you bother any of my other guests-my security forces will deal with you most harshly. I will return after the investigation into your background. Until then, make yourself comfortable. Come Calo," he said to Calo Nord, who'd inexplicably followed them around the estate, glaring alternately at Canderous and Aithne. "Let us leave our guests in peace."

The door shut behind them, but the lock did not engage. Canderous turned immediately to Aithne.

"Ok, we're inside. Now all we have to do is figure out a way to get past the _Ebon Hawk's_ security systems and we can get the rest of your group and get off this planet. No sense waiting around here, though," he added. "The sooner we get off Taris the better!"

"In a minute," Aithne said, "I want to give Davik a chance to get to the other side of this fun house before we start tearing it up. In the meantime, do you have any interesting stories to tell?"

Canderous laughed. "You want to hear tales of my exploits? Of the wars I've seen and fought, the enemies I've seen die by my hand?" He laughed again, seeming to remember something pleasant. "Sure, I'll humor you." He assumed a unique stance that Aithne identified as the storyteller's, the teacher's.

"My name is Canderous of the Mandalorian clan Ordo," he began. "I've been fighting across the galaxy for forty of your years. For my people it is the honor and glory of battle that rules us. It's through combat that we prove our worth, gain renown, and make our fortunes."

Aithne was interested in spite of herself. Canderous' words opened the door to a new culture, a new world. Visions of glory and the euphoria of victory echoed through her mind, the remains of a once proud race of warriors. "Is that why the Mandalorians attacked the Republic?"

"The Sith came to us with an offer," Canderous explained patiently. "To fight a worthy enemy in a battle that would be remembered forever. Win or lose," he instructed, "as long as the fight is worthy, then honor is gained. The glory of having triumphed over impossible odds is what drives us. If there's nothing at stake- your possessions, your life, your world-then the battle is meaningless. We Mandalore take everything we are and throw it into battle. It's the true test of yourself-the battle against death…against oblivion."

Aithne thought she understood what he was getting at. When she was solving a problem, she never got as big a rush on the easy ones as the hard ones. When she was challenged to her breaking point was when triumph brought its greatest pleasure. But something didn't make sense. "Then what are you doing now?"

Canderous looked regretful. "The days of combat and glory and cheating death at every turn seem to be over now," he admitted. "I take what I can. Times have changed. The Mandalore clans have been scattered across the Outer Rim, the Republic is in decline, and the Sith Empire rises to take its place. The clans as they are aren't a threat, but the galaxy still fears us," he said, half in satisfaction, and half in aggravation. "People think we war out of spite, or bloodlust. They don't understand, and fear that. We only wanted the challenge of the battle-win or lose. And we lost. But now I have no real challenges," he finished. "Crushing Davik's enemies and the pathetic gangs in the Lower City could not be considered the most glorious of tasks. When I think of the battles I've fought…the thousands I've killed…the worlds I've burned…I weep for my past."

He was silent for a moment. Then he resumed his normal demeanor. "We will never again speak of this," he said. "We've got work to do, so let's get to it."

Aithne, too, was silent, thinking on what she had heard. There was more to this gruff mercenary than met the eye. He'd proven to be observant and careful by his research on Aithne and her companions. His spoke with a rare eloquence for such a battle-scarred warrior. He was certainly no fool, and Aithne was sure he'd make a dangerous enemy. She thought, too, that he might make a valuable friend. Finally, she shook herself out and loosened her vibroblades in their sheathes. "As you will," she said, and she and the others left for the door.

The first thing Aithne did was to head to the slave quarters. Servants and slaves were the first ones to hear what went on in a household, and slaves had no real reason to withhold information about it. She quickly cajoled a male slave into telling her that Davik's pilot was being held prisoner in another part of the estate, being punished cruelly for attempting to lift spice from Davik. Aithne thanked the slave graciously, and hurried off.

"What's the rush?" Canderous asked, annoyed, as Aithne pulled him away from a busty slave.

"I don't know," Aithne admitted, "But for whatever reason, I think we don't have much time."

"I feel it, too," announced Bastila. "We should hurry."

So they did. A few felled guards later, Aithne and her two companions encountered a bounty hunter. When he attacked and they killed him, she managed to lift a computer access card from him.

"This should come in handy," Aithne said, placing the card in a pocket. A few doors down, they finally located Davik's disgraced pilot, being tortured by two sinister looking droids. Canderous and Bastila quickly dispatched the droids, and Aithne released the prisoner. He thanked them, and offered them the codes to the security guarding the _Ebon Hawk_ even without prompting. As he ran to escape the estate, Aithne felt the ground tremble beneath her. Simultaneously, she seemed to hear a cry in the back of her mind, then a large nothingness.

"The Sith," Bastila breathed, "They're bombing the planet!"

"Come on!" cried Aithne, worry for Carth and Mission and Zaalbar surging up in her. She took off at a dead run, heading for the security terminal where she could shut down the system guarding the _Hawk_.

She felt her gut clench every couple of seconds. Each tightening marked the deaths of more Tarisians. Aithne disabled the hangar security and stumbled into the open hangar.

She saw Davik and Calo Nord enter from the other side. "Damn those Sith!" Davik was saying. "They're bombing the whole planet! I knew they'd turn on us sooner or…" he caught sight of Aithne and Canderous and halted. The shots were nearer now. Aithne heard the laser sound of the shots firing, and felt the ground and ceiling shake around her. They didn't have time for a fight! "Look what we got here," sneered Davik. "Thieves in the hangar. So, you figured you'd just steal my ship and leave me high and dry while the Sith turn the planet into dust? Sorry, but that ain't gonna happen."

"I'll take care of them Davik," growled Calo Nord, grinning at Canderous. "I've been looking forward to this for a long time."

"Make it quick, Calo," said Davik in an undertone. "The Sith mean business. If we don't get to our ships and find somewhere safe the bombs they're dropping will kill us all!"

"Why must they always try to kill us?" Aithne asked Bastila wearily as Calo Nord squared off in front of them. She'd been nervous about fighting him, but with Bastila and Canderous with her and the Sith bombing the planet, she was greatly encouraged.

"I suppose they think they have some chance of winning," Bastila replied, activating her lightsaber. "For the Jedi!"

With Bastila, Aithne ran forward to attack Calo Nord, dodging left and right as tiny bits of the hangar began to fall down. But over to her right, a large bit fell on Davik Kang, crushing him to bits. Calo, seeing this, stopped fighting. He drew out a tiny object. Aithne, Bastila, and Canderous in the back with his big gun, froze.

"You may have me outnumbered and outgunned," he snarled, "but if I'm going down, I'm taking all of you with me. This thermal detonator will blow us all to bits!" A large crack resounded over his head. Calo looked up to see a spider web of cracks in the ceiling. "Damn those Sith," he cried. "They'll bring this whole hangar down around our ears!"

Seeing he was distracted, Aithne quickly called "Canderous!" She pointed at the ceiling. The Mandalorian nodded, and made one, efficient shot. The weakened ceiling buckled under the blow. It fell, crushing Calo Nord beneath its weight.

"Now come on!" shouted Aithne, and all three ran to the _Hawk_.

"Let's get this ship fired up," called Canderous over the rumble of the fall of Taris, "We'll pick up the rest of your friends and then we have to get off this planet!" Aithne respected him for it. The bombs were falling more thickly now. Most would have just fled. She was grateful. Now that he'd allied with her, he was going to take care of her friends, too.

Canderous was able to start up the ship, and rather hesitantly, he maneuvered them out of the crumbling estate. They flew over Taris. Aithne sat near the hatch, looking out of a window. Everywhere she looked she saw Taris burning. Fire rained down from the vengeful sky, turned dark red with the flames and the smoke. Fighters, too, flew low over the city firing rapidly at men, women, and children alike.

Aithne saw men protecting their wives, and mothers protecting their children, only to be shot where they stood, the entire family turned to ash in a millisecond. She saw building topple and aliens running for cover. Taris was dying, all of it, like Telos before her, and Aithne knew the Sith wouldn't stop until the entire planet, above and below the surface, was obliterated. What good now was all that she had done here? What use was her help in ending the gang war, or her aid of Zelka in eradicating the rhakghoul disease? Aithne wondered if even the Outcasts in the Undercity would escape to their Promised Land, or if they, too, would die in this hellish onslaught. As Canderous skimmed lower over the city, Aithne saw a boy in an alleyway, no more than ten years old, half-carrying a little toddler of a Twi'lek girl out of a building. Their clothes were scorched. The boy laid her down and knelt beside her, begging her not to die. Then the pair of them looked up, and a bomb landed, and then Aithne had passed them.

Finally, Aithne saw four tiny figures on the balcony of a burning apartment complex. Three of them were waving their arms like mad. While Canderous brought the _Hawk_ to hover, Bastila lowered the boarding ramp, and Aithne helped Carth, Zaalbar, T3-M4, and Mission aboard. Mission's face was a mask of tears already. Zaalbar put a hairy arm around his friend as Bastila closed the hatch again, and Carth darted forward to take the reins of the ship. Aithne followed him. Canderous looked frankly relieved to relinquish command of the ship, and Carth locked the ship and took the controls.

Under the hands of Carth Onasi, the _Ebon Hawk_ came to life. She roared and shot off through the acrid fumes of Taris. Beneath them, all Aithne could see was flames, and death.

"Plot a course for Dantooine!" Bastila cried. "There's a Jedi Enclave there where we can find refuge!"

Carth nodded, then looked grim. "Incoming fighters!" he relayed.

Bastila turned to Aithne immediately. "Quickly, to the gun turrets! You have to hold the Sith fighters off until we get those hyperspace coordinates punched in!"

Aithne was vaguely aware of Canderous running to the other turret as she obeyed Bastila's command. As she saw six Sith fighters pop up on the radar, that cold feeling flooded through her once again.

Her stomach churned as she saw those six blights upon the galaxy. Her mind still echoed with the screams of the spirits dying upon Taris. In a few, brief moments, she'd shot four of the six fighters out of the sky. Canderous quickly dispatched the other two.

Aithne stayed at the turret until she felt the ship jolt into hyperspace, but the initial righteous anger had faded. A sour taste filled her mouth as she recalled just how quickly she'd taken those Sith down. They were just soldiers doing their duty. Malak had obviously given the order to destroy Taris. She had to remember that. She had to remember that she was not on a mission to destroy all of the Sith. But if she ever met Darth Malak- Aithne thought of the child in the alley, of the families with their wide, despairing eyes that had been blown to pieces or crushed by falling debris, of Mission's grief stricken face. If she ever met Darth Malak, she felt sure she could destroy him.

"We're en route to Dantooine," called Carth from the cockpit.

"Good work, Carth!" Aithne called back. Then she walked to the dormitories on the left hand side, those traditionally reserved for females. There was someone that needed her there.

She found Mission sitting on the bunk nearest the door. She stared off into space, her young eyes now every bit as haunted as Carth Onasi's. Everyone she'd known, everyplace she'd been, had now been demolished, crushed into oblivion by Malak and the Sith.

Aithne sat down beside the girl. Words would be useless here. She couldn't say she understood, because she didn't. She couldn't say it would get better, because even though it was true, at the moment, it would feel to Mission Vao like salt ground into a gaping wound. All she could do was sit there beside the girl, and offer to take some of the pain. So Aithne Morrigan reached out to the young girl beside her, and took her hand. And as she wept, Aithne held her, and wept with her.


	11. Is Revan Truly Dead?

**Disclaimer: The place and people are still not my own. *Sigh* Life is so unfair.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Eleven<p>

Aithne spent the beginning of voyage to Dantooine comforting Mission. The girl was in shock for the first three days. She didn't speak a word, only ate when food was forced upon her, and every so often she would collapse, shaking silently, tears streaming down her face. Aithne held her. But when Mission started talking after that, Aithne very soon realized she wasn't what the girl needed. She started talking about everyone that had died, and Aithne didn't know them. She didn't know Mission herself very well.

The fourth day, Aithne went to the cockpit, helpless, unsure what to do. The girl's silent tears had turned to violent sobs, and she was yelling in Twi'leki every so often about Malak, and the people that had died. Carth took one look at Aithne, put the ship on autopilot, instructed Bastila to watch the cockpit, and strode away, shoulders and jaw tight. He went to find Zaalbar. Then the two of them went to Mission. After that, things got better, a little. Carth understood what it was to lose a homeworld, to see everything you knew destroyed. Zaalbar understood Mission. Together, the two of them did a much better job of comforting Mission than Aithne could have done alone. But every night, she still held the girl's hand when she woke up screaming with the nightmares. Aithne knew they'd never leave, but she could help, for a while.

Aithne spent the remainder of the days on the _Hawk_ after that avoiding Bastila. The Jedi woman was beginning to unnerve her with her strange looks. She kept mentioning things like "Force Adept" and "great destiny". Aithne didn't want to come within twenty kilometers of that quagmire. But she had yet to decide what she would do when they landed on Dantooine. She didn't think there was a Republic base there. Carth would need to go to the Republic base- and Aithne thought she wanted to join him. After Taris she was committed to this war, press-ganged or not. But she didn't own the _Hawk_. Technically, none of them did, but if anyone had claim to it, it was Canderous. She'd have to find a way for Mission, Carth, Zaalbar, and herself to get to a Republic base and away from the Jedi, without a ship.

While she mulled it over, Aithne tinkered with T3-M4 and conversed with Canderous on what it meant to be a warrior. His insights were sometimes barbaric, and sometimes cruel, but they were nearly always thought provoking. Aithne felt herself growing under his instruction, coming to better understand what she thought of war, and of herself.

Finally, about a week and a half after Taris, just as they were coming to the end of their supplies, Carth announced they were coming into Dantooine. As they flew in over the planet, Aithne caught a glimpse of beautiful green prairies swaying in the breeze. A flock of birds flew overhead as Carth landed the ship inside the walls of the Jedi Enclave. Aithne felt the walls close in about her, and reflected that she'd have to confront Bastila now. It was, after all, on the Jedi girl's orders that they'd flown to Dantooine at all. Aithne sighed, and wearily strode to the front.

Bastila was standing, looking out the front window, when Aithne found her. Carth was fiddling with some instruments, parking the _Ebon Hawk_ and powering her down. "Dantooine," Bastila said. "It seems like a lifetime since I last set foot on her surface, though in truth it has only been a few months. We should be safe from Malak here."

Aithne shot her a skeptical glance, and Bastila added, "For now, at least."

Carth still had doubts. "Safe?" he said incredulously. "You saw what his fleet did to Taris: there wasn't a building over two stories high left standing! They…they turned the planet into one big pile of rubble."

Bastila tossed her head proudly. "Even the Sith would think twice before attacking Dantooine. There are many Jedi here, including several of the most powerful Masters of the Order. There is great strength within this place."

"Whether there is or not, we need a rest," Aithne put in.

"We can get supplies here and recuperate," pressed Bastila. "The Academy is a place of mental and spiritual healing; something we could all use after what we've been through."

Carth nodded. His eyes flickered to the back, and Aithne knew he was thinking of Mission. "Maybe you're right," he admitted. "It isn't easy to witness the annihilation of an entire planet. I know Mission's taking it pretty hard."

Bastila shrugged. "She will find a way to come to terms with her grief. She is stronger than she appears. We just need to give her time."

Carth's face went empty, and Aithne bristled at Bastila's callousness. She rounded on the Jedi. "Whether she is or not, she's seen everyone and everything she's known since before she can remember go up in flames! That girl will have nightmares for the rest of her life; they've already started! And whether or not she comes to terms with her grief, she will carry it forever! And you say we should just 'give her time'!"

Bastila's cheeks colored ever so slightly. "Forgive me," she said. "That was inconsiderate of me."

Aithne snorted. "Inconsiderate," she repeated mockingly.

"I will try to be more sensitive in the future," Bastila said.

Aithne sighed. Bastila seemed earnest. In a quieter voice, she said. "You better, Bastila. You just better. We're all that girl has now. We can't leave her alone in this." She took a deep breath. "So. What are we doing now?"

Bastila looked pensive. "I must go speak with the Jedi Council," she said. "I need their advice on…recent developments. After I have met with them I will need you, Aithne, to meet me outside the ship."

"Why?" Aithne demanded, but Bastila was already striding out of the room. In the distance, Aithne heard the hatch being lowered, and Bastila was gone. She began to shake.

"Force," she said, kicking the copilot's chair. "I hate it when people do that! She is so annoying!"

Carth laughed. "Take it easy on the ship, beautiful. What, is she more annoying than I am?"

Aithne smiled tightly. "Oh, you can beat her out any day, Carth, but see, I like you. And you're not trying to make me into some stupid Jedi and drag me off on some foolish crusade!"

"Is Bastila trying to do that?" Carth asked, faintly amused.

Aithne just looked at him. He stopped smiling, seeing she was serious. He stood. "Is she?"

Aithne shook her head in confusion. "I don't know. I just don't know. It's just- I get these feelings. Like with Canderous, remember?"

Carth inclined his head. Aithne continued. "And weird dreams and visions, too. I used to only have them every few years, no big deal. But since I met _her_, it's been happening more and more."

"It's probably nothing, Aithne," Carth said.

"Maybe," Aithne admitted, "But when Bastila listed her reasons for stopping on Dantooine just now, she said we could get supplies. As in, for the _Hawk_. As in…"

"As in she expects us to continue to travel together," Carth finished. He now looked faintly bothered as well. "Is there anything else?" He didn't look dismissive anymore.

"Just now," Aithne said, "When she said she wanted to talk to the Council about recent developments? I think she was talking about me."

"A little full of ourselves, aren't we?" joked Carth.

Aithne shook her head violently. "Carth, I'm serious," she said. "I think Bastila wants something from me. You told me yourself she requested me aboard the _Spire_. She had to have had a reason. She keeps saying I'm Force Sensitive, that I need to talk to the Council. And I think she knows something she's not telling me."

Carth's eyes searched Aithne's face, and his eyebrows rose. "You're really nervous about this, aren't you?" he asked, surprised.

Aithne nodded. "You don't mess around with the Jedi. I don't like them. Never have. And I _hate_ not knowing what they want from me."

Some minute struggle seemed to pass over Carth's face. Slowly, as if not quite sure it was the right thing to do, he brought his arms up, and drew Aithne to him. He was very stiff at first, but Aithne relaxed into him immediately. Carth made her feel safe, somehow. She buried her face into his shoulder, inhaling the leather smell of that awful orange flight jacket, and felt him relax around her.

His hand rubbed a small, comforting circle on her back. The motion was natural, this time, right. "It will be alright, beautiful," Carth promised her. His voice rumbled against Aithne's cheek. "I don't know how, or when, but it will be alright."

Aithne looked up at him. "I don't know why, flyboy, but I believe you," she said. Carth smiled crookedly down at her, and Aithne stepped away, smiling back up at him gratefully. "Hey. Thanks for all you've done since the crash. Helping me out, saving my life on multiple occasions, looking out for Mission…"

"You don't…" Carth began.

Aithne cut him off. "I know I don't have to thank you. But I want to. Soldier, you have gone above and beyond the call of duty."

She turned away to walk back to the dormitory to await Bastila's call. As she left, she felt Carth's eyes on her back.

An hour or so later, the call came. Aithne went to meet Bastila, and Carth joined her. Bastila ran out of the Enclave. When she stopped, she didn't even pant with the exercise.

"I have spoken briefly with the Council," she related. "They request an audience with Aithne. We should go at once."

Carth's eyes darted to Aithne. "An audience with the Jedi Council," he repeated, eyes narrowing. "That's pretty rare for someone who isn't even a Jedi. What's this about, Bastila?"

"I'm sorry, Carth, but I cannot tell you," Bastila said, and her honesty chilled Aithne. This was big, if it was confidential enough for the Jedi to exclude war hero Carth Onasi. Exactly who was she to the Jedi? "All I ask," continued Bastila, "is that you trust in the Force and the wisdom of the Council."

"Oh, that's all," muttered Aithne.

"Well I don't like being left out of the loop," said Carth, who hadn't heard her. "But I'm not looking to get you in any trouble with the Jedi Masters. We'll do things your way for a while."

"Come," Bastila said to both of them, "They are expecting us. I will lead you to the Council Chambers."

"Why do I feel like I'm walking into a nest full of kinrath?" Aithne asked Carth as they followed Bastila inside the Enclave. Carth didn't laugh. Neither did Aithne.

The Jedi Enclave was pretty, at least, Aithne noted as she walked through the passages. Green pastures and trees were evenly spaced between picturesque stone walls. The ceilings were high and airy. It was a peaceful sort of place.

"You there, Padawan!" called an angry looking Jedi woman. She had suddenly sprouted up in front of them, and was scowling at Aithne with all her might. "Why are you not wearing the customary robes of the Jedi Order?"

It turned out the woman, a Belaya, had mistaken Aithne for a Jedi Padawan. When Aithne explained that she was not a Jedi at all, but a guest of Padawan Bastila's, the woman calmed and apologized for her rudeness. She mentioned something about Aithne being "strong in the Force," and that "anyone could've made the same mistake," made an awkward excuse, and left.

Aithne was unnerved by the encounter, though. "Why do they keep saying that?" she demanded of Carth. "I'm not a stupid, stodgy Jedi! I'm just an ordinary person!" Several surrounding Jedi shot her dirty looks. Aithne didn't feel at all apologetic.

Carth actually seemed to consider the question. "I don't know," he said. "You do have a certain presence. You seem to succeed at everything you do. At least, everything I've seen. Maybe you should hear them out."

Aithne shifted. "I think I'd rather you take me, Mission, Zaalbar, Canderous, and T3 and fly the _Ebon Hawk_ out of here," she said lowly. "Can't we do that instead?"

"Don't be such a child," Carth teased. But behind his eyes was a hint of seriousness. Aithne ran the last few sentences she'd spoken through her head. She bowed her head. She was being childish.

"Got it," she murmured. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Carth said. "Anyway, they haven't given us supplies yet. We couldn't pack up and leave even if I wanted to. And I'm too curious now to want to."

Aithne glared at him, but refrained from commenting. Carth merely smiled, and bowed for her to continue. They did so, and in a short time they'd arrived outside the Council Chambers. He peered inside.

"Bastila's shaking her head at me," he reported, frowning. "I don't think I'm supposed to go in there. They're waiting for you."

Aithne nodded, suddenly dry mouthed. Carth clapped her on the back, but the gesture did nothing to relieve her fears now, as she stared into the unfathomable heart of the Jedi. What could they possibly want with a twenty-eight year old scout from Deralia? She walked forward, managing by a supreme act of will to keep herself from trembling.

Four very old, male personages in robes waited there with Bastila. The red-skinned Twi'lek addressed her first. "Ah. So you are the one who rescued Bastila," he said kindly.

Aithne swallowed. "What? She actually told you that I rescued her? Imagine that." Her words were unnaturally loud, but she hoped the rudeness would cover her nerves.

Bastila scowled at her, and shook her head warningly, but the Twi'lek just smiled tolerantly. "It is appropriate that you are here," he said. "We have been discussing your rather special case. I am Zhar, a member of the Jedi Council. With me are Master Vrook," here he indicated a tall, thin, old man who was scowling at Aithne as if she were the reincarnation of Exar Kun or something. "Master Vandar," here Zhar indicated an impossible to read little green man, "and of course, the Chronicler of our Academy, Master Dorak." Lastly, Zhar gestured to a dark-skinned man that looked to be in his late forties or fifties. This man, Dorak, looked at her as if he had not yet made up his mind as to who or what she was or what he thought of her. "Padawan Bastila I am sure you are already familiar with," Zhar finished.

The formalities pressed on Aithne like a physical weight. "Cut the make-nice," she said harshly. "What do you want from me?"

"Bastila tells us you are strong in the Force," Zhar explained, though a thread of uncertainty had entered his voice. Aithne grabbed onto it like a lifeline. "We are considering you for Jedi training."

So it was that. "Don't," Aithne told the Twi'lek plainly. "I have no wish to be a Jedi."

Zhar smiled, as if she could not possibly mean it. Most people jumped at the opportunity to join the Order, Aithne knew. "Do not worry," he said, all confidence back in his voice, "I am confident in your ability to learn."

The sour looking Vrook quickly cut in. "Master Zhar speaks out of turn perhaps. We need indisputable proof of your strong affinity to the Force before we would even consider you for training."

"Do you?" Aithne said quickly. "Sorry, Master Vrook. There's nothing to see here. Guess this whole meeting is a waste of your time."

Bastila glared at Aithne. "Proof?" she asked Master Vrook. "Surely the entire Council can feel the strength of the Force within this woman. And I have already related to you the events that took place on Taris…" She would have continued, but an unperturbed Vrook cut her off.

"Perhaps it was simple luck."

"Of course it was luck," Aithne said.

Zhar gently corrected Vrook. "We both know there is no luck. There is only the Force. We all feel the power in Bastila's companion, though it is wild and untamed," he continued. "Now that this power has begun to manifest itself, can we safely ignore it?"

Vrook was unconvinced. "The Jedi training is long and difficult, even when working with a young and open mind. Teaching a child is hard. How much harder will it be for an adult to learn the ways of the Jedi?"

This time Vrook's skepticism stung. But the bigger issue was that no one was listening to her. Aithne crossed her arms. "You people aren't getting it," she told them. "I'll make this easy for you to understand." Slowly, clearly enunciating every sound, Aithne repeated, "_I don't want to be a Jedi._ I'm fine just the way I am. Thanks for the offer. Really." She paused. Then she looked at Master Vrook. It was impossible to resist. "But, Master Vrook," she added, "Allow me to say that if I _did_ want to train as a Jedi, my age would not hinder me."

"Such pride!" cried Vrook, almost triumphantly. "Such arrogance! This one is already on the path to the Dark Side!"

"As are many who are not given proper training, Master Vrook," said the little green elf man in a high, creaky voice. "Only through our guidance can we hope to lead those who have strayed back to the path of the light." There was an undercurrent to his voice that made Aithne stop fuming for a moment and pay attention.

"Traditionally the Jedi do not accept adults for training," put in Master Dorak. "There are rare exceptions in the history of our Order, however, and you are a special case."

_That's the second time they've said that, _Aithne thought. _What makes me special?_ _Why are they considering me at all? _She decided to listen a bit longer in hopes that they would tell her.

"I agree with Master Dorak," said the diminutive Master Vandar. "Many of our own pupils are leaving the Jedi Order to follow the Sith teachings. We need recruits to stand against Malak! With Revan dead…"

But Vrook interrupted him angrily. "Are you certain Revan is truly dead? What if we undertake to train this one, and the Dark Lord should return?"

"What are you talking about?" Aithne asked curiously, unable to restrain herself. "Revan's dead. Bastila killed Revan, right?"

Master Vandar's mouth tightened. He shot what could have been described as an annoyed look at Master Vrook, were members of the high and mighty Jedi Council allowed to feel such trivial emotions as annoyance.

"We should discuss this matter more fully in private," he said to Master Vrook, completely ignoring Aithne's questions. "Bastila, you and your companion must go. This is a matter for the Council alone."

"Wait, you can't just drop something like that and just expect me to leave! Is Revan alive or…"

"As you wish, Master Vandar," Bastila cut her off. "We shall return to the Ebon Hawk and leave you to your deliberations." Her voice was loud, and final. Aithne glared at her, and Bastila bowed and beckoned to Aithne. Fuming, Aithne followed her.

"Scout Morrigan," Bastila hissed as she walked Aithne back to their ship. "What can you possibly be thinking? You simply cannot speak to the Jedi Council in that manner!"

This made Aithne so mad she stopped. They were in the courtyard now, in front of the _Ebon Hawk_. Aithne turned to face her, hands on her hips. "It was your idea to take me in there," she stated. "Now, I fully accept that you cannot speak to the Jedi Council in that manner. They are your masters. They are not mine. I am not a Jedi. I am not under the Council's jurisdiction. And, _may I repeat_, I have no intention of _ever_ being under their jurisdiction."

"But…" Bastila began.

"I am a scout in the Republic Fleet," Aithne continued mercilessly. "And as soon as I find a Republic Base I shall sign up for active duty and fight Malak and the Sith in the best way I know how. You can stay here with your Jedi and your masters and your destiny, wasting time, as long as you care to.

"Jedi Shan, you have dropped cryptic hints about my destiny and Force sensitivity while all the time being of precious little use to anyone. I have no idea what you or the Jedi Council wants with me. I can see no possible military or strategic advantage the Order would gain from wasting time and resources training a twenty-eight year old scout with authority issues. I personally, as I have stated _several_ times, have absolutely _no_ desire to be a member of the Jedi Order, though your precious Council seems to care little for whether I wish to be recruited or not.

"Neither you nor the Council have considered my objections. You have been most unsatisfactory in the trivial matter of answering the questions I need to have answer to in order to plan my future. I see no reason to bother further with any of you. I am very happy to have been of service on Taris. I'm sure the entire Fleet is glad you aren't dead or captured. But if you'll pardon me, the very instant I receive supplies and clearance to take off, Carth Onasi, Mission Vao, Canderous Ordo, the Wookiee Zaalbar, the droid T3-M4, and I will take the _Ebon Hawk_, which belongs jointly to Canderous and myself as we jointly undertook the task of procuring it from Davik Kang, and we shall leave for the nearest Republic outpost. I wish you well, Jedi Shan. May the Force be with you, and all that. Good day."

By the time Aithne finished this tirade, Bastila looked about ready to cry. Aithne felt a bit guilty. Lip trembling, face pale, Bastila stepped forward. "Aithne, I am, as you have said, under the Council's jurisdiction," the girl said carefully. "But, I swear on the Force, it was never my idea to keep you ignorant of anything. Our own Jedi Code states that there is no ignorance, but knowledge. Unfortunately, I am under orders not to reveal anything to you. I apologize, but I must do my duty.

"As for your Force Sensitivity, your destiny, you yourself have felt it. Your visions, the strangely accurate feelings you have about people and events, they are the Force in you. You know this is true." She raised her eyes to Aithne's. "You are not a stupid woman, and I feel your conviction of this.

"I do not know what personal antipathy you may have for the Jedi Order, but I do know you want to stop Malak and the Sith. As a scout, you can only do so much. With Jedi training, you may be able to make a genuine difference: you may be able to help stop Taris and Telos from happening once again. And I know you harbor a dislike for me, but I shall not go. When you saved me from the Vulkars, our fates were tied. I shall see this through to the end." Bastila scanned Aithne's face, hesitating, then nodded. "And I know that you will, too."

She stood there, bold as brass in the bright midday sun of Dantooine, daring for Aithne to disagree with her. Aithne looked at Bastila Shan. She saw the Jedi girl's pride, saw her vision for the future, saw her sense of duty, strong enough to prod her to stand up to a woman both older and, judging from the Jedi Council's reactions, stronger than herself. And Aithne felt no anger, only admiration. It felt oddly familiar, this admiration tinged with pity for the young woman in front of her.

Aithne sighed. "Alright," she said. "Come on, then, Bastila. We'll see how this plays out." She held out a hand to Bastila, and Bastila, smiling tentatively, shook it. Together, they walked up the ramp to the _Ebon Hawk_.

* * *

><p>CARTH POV<p>

Carth heard Aithne and Bastila come in, returning from the Jedi Council. Once again, he wondered why Aithne had been called in, why he'd been excluded. He'd left as soon as she'd gone in.

When he'd returned to the ship, he had radioed in to Admiral Dadonna. She'd been relieved to see that he'd survived the crash of the _Endar Spire_, and even more to hear that he was still with Bastila Shan. The Republic wanted to keep tabs on Bastila and her Battle Meditation. He'd been ordered to standby: to guard Bastila and to help her on her mission. Trouble was, Carth didn't know Bastila's mission. But he was fairly certain she wouldn't be in the front any time soon, and Saul Karath would be. Carth cursed quietly.

How long would he have to wait? How long would he be sent here and there babysitting Jedi? He could fight! He wanted to fight. Saul still was out there, and Morgana and Dustil ever looked over Carth's shoulder. All Telos did, crying out for vengeance upon the traitor.

What was Bastila doing? What was Aithne to her and to the Jedi? Carth frowned, remembering Aithne's fears that they were trying to turn her into a Jedi, that no one was telling her anything. He stared out the window. He heard her footsteps on the grating as she came in. "What happened?" he asked, not bothering to turn around.

He heard her sigh, and she swung herself into the co-pilot's seat and swiveled around to look at him. "Most of them want me to become a Jedi. Bastila told them I'm strong in the Force, and apparently, they're low enough on recruits to consider training a twenty-eight year old. They kept calling me a special case. There was this one man, Master Vrook, that looked at me like I was the current incarnation of the Dark Side itself. He didn't want me to be trained. He said I'd be sure to go all Sith on them. Then..." she hesitated. "Then he said something very strange about Revan maybe not being dead."

"But Revan's dead, right? I mean, Bastila herself helped kill the Dark Lord," Carth said.

"I know, but the comment upset the lot of them. They kicked me and Bastila out after that."

Carth nodded slowly. So Aithne was special. Bastila, and the Council, did have an interest in her. "So, what do you think about it all?" he asked.

"I don't want to be a Jedi," Aithne said right away. "I don't like the Jedi Council. But I'm not sure they're going to give me much choice in the end, Carth. If they'll have me, it'll be just like the Republic." Carth remembered. She had been press-ganged. "If they won't, then they won't. But…but Bastila said something about the Force helping me to fight Malak better," she said softly. "I'd like that."

Carth shrugged, impatient. "So, basically, we're playing the waiting game while the Jedi Council argues things out."

"Yes. And meanwhile, I'm going to do some serious thinking."

Carth nodded. "I radioed in to Admiral Dadonna," he confessed. "My orders are to standby and to guard Bastila. She's the key…"

"To the entire Republic war effort, I know," sighed Aithne. "Well, I'm glad you're sticking around, at least for a while."

Her gratitude and relief were plain. Carth frowned. That was another thing. He liked Aithne. He really did. She was brave and strong and brilliant and funny. And frankly, very attractive. There had been a few times since they'd met that had positively unnerved him, like how easily acting like her boyfriend at the Sith party had been, or how much the idea of her death in the race or the Sith base had worried him, or how natural it had been to comfort her, just this morning. He figured she might get the wrong idea if he stuck around with Bastila and her. There couldn't be anything between them, not after everything that had happened to him. Not with where he was going.

She caught his silence, and crossed her arms over her chest, embarrassed. "Well. Okay, then. I'll just be…going, then."

Silently, she left. Carth gripped the sides of the pilot's chair firmly. Maybe she'd gotten the message. So why didn't he feel any better?

* * *

><p>BASTILA POV<p>

Bastila had just sat down on the empty women's dormitory floor to meditate. On her way to it she had passed Mission playing Zaalbar at Pazaak. Though the girl's face was still impassive, it was good to see her doing something approximately normal, though admittedly Bastila hadn't met too many fourteen year old gamblers. She hadn't bothered to search out Canderous. The Mandalorian was rude and crass and seemed to have picked up on Aithne's nickname for her. "Princess" from the sneering mercenary came across much more derogatory than when Aithne said it, however mad she might be at the time.

The floor was cold, but Bastila had learned to be impervious to such trivial things as environment. She slowed her breathing, closed her eyes, and reached out with the Force. She was beginning to search out her surroundings when a veritable nimbus of Force energy came into her space, tangled and seething with emotions: fear, anger, embarrassment, apprehension. Bastila opened her eyes. Aithne.

"Do you mind…do you mind if I join you?" the woman asked hesitantly. She looked slightly sheepish. She hadn't planned on asking. Bastila could tell. She felt Aithne's desperation for peace. Bastila smiled up at her, pleased by the request and the good will it showed.

"Not at all, Aithne," she replied.

Aithne smiled crookedly. "Meditation won't turn me into a Jedi, will it?" The words were joking, but there was real anxiety behind the request.

"No," Bastila told her. "But it may help you to clear your mind. I sense much confusion and anger within you."

Aithne sat down gingerly, crossing her legs as Bastila. She closed her eyes, and her long lashes swept her freckled cheeks, but after a moment, she opened them again, coloring slightly. "So…what do I do?" she asked.

Bastila laughed. It was funny to think that this woman before her, so capable, had not the faintest idea how to meditate. "Very well," she said, holding out her hands to Aithne. "I shall try to help you. Close your eyes again. I'm going to try to feel what you are thinking, and to help you sort through all of the confusion in your head and heart. Try to clear your head of all thoughts."

Entering Aithne's mind was as easy as breathing, and Bastila felt a twinge of worry for the connection between them. It buzzed with activity. She felt the wild, energetic presence of Aithne. A tendril of thought extended towards the main hold, and Bastila squeezed Aithne's hands. "Stop worrying about Mission." Aithne's thoughts focused on Bastila herself, and Bastila almost laughed again as no less than five different schemes to get away materialized in the woman's brain. "And stop planning ways to escape the Enclave."

For a while, Aithne's thoughts drifted, but the activity did not cease, it just waited. Before long, vivid images materialized over the connection. A city in flames, the sound of ships firing, and an ugliness flared up in Aithne. Her hands stiffened in Bastila's. "Stop hating Malak," Bastila instructed her. "He is irrelevant now. He cannot hurt you here, and your hatred for him is doing more damage to you than it is doing to him. Push it aside, Aithne." Bastila felt Aithne confront the ghost-figure in her mind that was Malak, felt her try to humanize it, to remember what Malak once had been. The anger and hatred lessened. Aithne relaxed. She breathed deeply now, and Bastila wondered if she was remembering how to do this. She began to reach out with her mind; Bastila felt her consciousness extend.

"Good," she began, but just then Aithne's consciousness had fixated on something. Bastila frowned. She had not anticipated this. The thoughts Aithne entertained now were distracting at best, and could be fatally problematic at worst. "Aithne Morrigan," she said, more harshly than before. "Stop dwelling on how cute you think Carth Onasi is and wondering whether he likes you or not." Aithne's hands stiffened in hers again, and amazingly, walls sprang to life in Aithne's head. A Jedi Knight couldn't have blocked her out better, Bastila thought. She wondered where Aithne had been going with that train of thought.

"Relax," she said. "I am here only to help you, Aithne. Release your fears and anxieties. Clear your mind, and focus."

The walls stayed up for about a minute, though Bastila could feel her struggling behind them. Then they came down, and Bastila sensed Aithne's mind opening up like a long withered flower being stroked by the first rays of sunlight after the frost. "Yes, feel the Force within you, around you. The Force is within us all."

She felt Aithne's consciousness continue to expand. Bastila went with Aithne, fell into her mind, and together they felt the grasses sway out upon the Dantooine plain. They felt the brush of an iriaz' wing as it stroked through the atmosphere. They felt the feral joy of the kath hound as it ran, unhindered and unchallenged, free as any creature alive. Bastila felt more than she'd ever felt with Aithne, as together they sensed the people moving through the Academy, and saw the fears and loves they tried so hard to keep suppressed. Bastila shied away from them, but she felt Aithne embrace them, and a voice echoed across the link between them. _These, too, are part of Life. This, too, is the Force._

Bastila retreated a bit from that vast consciousness, from that Voice, but continued to watch Aithne's mind as it returned to the _Hawk_. She sensed Aithne encounter the heavy sadness that filled Mission, and Zaalbar's homesickness and anger. Bastila almost fled when Aithne sensed Canderous. His pride and strength screamed in the Dark, Bastila had felt it before, and blocked it off, but Aithne started to embrace it, before recognizing it and moving on. Bastila returned to Aithne's mind as she moved on, sensing the character in the cockpit: the almost choking sadness, anger and desperation that Carth wore like a cloak. But Aithne probed at it, searched out the core that was Carth's Force signature, and Bastila felt Aithne's entire mind give off a single resounding note in response to it. Bastila began to shake, and then the consciousness turned upon her.

And now that entire vast, wild mind was trained upon her. Aithne was looking into Bastila, rather than the other way around. Surprise rang out over the link as Aithne discovered darkness in Bastila's aura, and the fear directed back at her. Aithne probed Bastila's will, the dark thoughts she hid at the back of her mind like shameful secrets. Initially, the mind was indignant. _Hypocrite_, Aithne called her, but cut it off as soon as it was voiced. Worse, then, infinitely worse, sympathy and understanding came in waves. Aithne squeezed Bastila's hands.

Bastila fled. She erected her own walls, and pushed the invading, sympathetic, enormous presence out. A hurricane of the Force swirled around Aithne. She could feel it. Darkness and Light in almost equal measure. Bastila reached out to find the woman's core. _Who are you, really? _She was surprised by what she saw there. The two characteristics that seemed to define the woman opposite her were her hunger for knowledge, and her compassion for others. Intelligence radiated off of her in overwhelming waves, and compassion poured forth from the heart of her being like a flood. Bastila was nearly swept away again as she mentally waded in the current. The Jedi Masters had told her of this. She _remembered_ this, from when she was a girl on Coruscant, meditating as the Knights went off to war. _This is just like before._

Bastila stood abruptly. "Yes, well, you're doing very well for your first time. That's enough for now, I think," she said, nodding hastily. She nearly ran out of the room.

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><p><strong>AN: I'm not sure about this one, particularly the Bastila POV. How am I doing? R&R!**

**May the Force Be With You,**

**LMSharp**


	12. Sharing Dreams and Giving In

**Disclaimer: Bioware and Lucasfilm. How I envy you your brilliant, brilliant game.**

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><p>Chapter Twelve<p>

_I paced in front of a heavy black door. Months of research, what felt like years of searching, and here we were. The walls pressed in on me, as if they wished to crush me to death. Yet the defenses of this place stood down. I had already proved myself worthy of this knowledge. I would change the galaxy with it!_

"_The dark side is strong in this place," said my former friend. He was now my apprentice, but he still had the annoying habit of stating the blatantly obvious. "I can feel its power!" _

_I paced some more, building up my excitement. I knew it would all be so anticlimactic once I passed through the ancient door. I wanted to savor the moment now, while I could. I reveled in the sensation of the power this discovery would bring me._

"_Is this wise?" my apprentice wanted to know, "If we passed through this door, we can never go back. The Jedi will surely banish us. Are the secrets of the Star Forge so valuable? Is its power truly worth the risk?"_

_I looked at my apprentice pityingly. He looked so impressive, too. Tall, bald with beautiful tribal tattoos, he was the image of power. Yet he had never been able to shake the ridiculous Jedi-speak we'd learned at the knee of those idiotic Jedi Masters. And now, after all we'd been through, all we'd discovered, he wanted to call it quits. I laughed in his face, his weakness giving me the strength to continue. I used the Force to open the door, and without a care, stepped through, leaving my past for the new future, a galaxy molded in my own image. As I did so, though, I felt a curious sensation, as if someone was watching me._

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><p>CARTH POV<p>

When Carth woke up the morning of their second day on Dantooine, he felt a little better. Sure, he was still stuck on Dantooine waiting on the whims of the Jedi Council, but Dantooine did have a wholesome air about it. It was the nicest planet he'd been to in a while, actually. Besides, there was just something about mornings that made it hard to be angry. It was afternoons, and nights, in bed alone, feeling Morgana's absence, and knowing Saul was still out there somewhere, that made days hard.

Carth ran into Zaalbar early on, and the Wookiee led him to a small barrel of food stuffs the Jedi had brought by. It wasn't supplies for a journey, but it would keep them fed. It was just as well; they were about out of synthesizer gunk and the dried meat and fruit the _Hawk_ had been supplied with to begin with.

Carth made a cup of caffa, and sat down with a bowl of fresh Dantooine grain and fruit. Fresh food wasn't a luxury he got often, as a Republic soldier in space all the time. He relished it, until Bastila came out. She looked like she had dressed in a hurry, and her hair was disarranged, and her normally pale skin was about as white as chalk. Carth stood.

"Bastila? Is something wrong?"

She shook her head quickly. "Carth, forgive me, I cannot speak with you now. I must see the Council. Immediately." She attached her lightsaber to her belt upside-down. She made to go, but then stopped. "Carth, when Aithne comes out, see that she comes to the Council chambers, too. It is very important. Do you understand?"

Without waiting for an answer, she was gone. Carth sat back down again. He didn't know Bastila too well yet, but she struck him as being a little too organized and collected to dash out like she had done. Something had just happened that had shaken her. Badly. But Carth was at a loss as to what it could have been. Bastila had been on the ship all night. They were on Dantooine, for crying out loud! Nothing happened here.

He chewed his last bite of fruit thoughtfully, and Aithne came running out. She was better dressed than Bastila had been, but her eyes were clouded with worry. She, too, was pale. Her freckles stood out in stark contrast against the unhealthy pallor of her cheeks. She hadn't looked too different on Taris, lying on the dusty bed in an abandoned apartment, half-dead.

Carth stood again and went to her. "This morning's getting stranger by the minute," he said. He helped her into a chair. She was shaking. "First Bastila comes out looking like she saw a ghost, and now you. Are you all right, Aithne?"

Aithne took a few deep breaths. "I had a rough night," she said shortly. Carth remembered that she had nightmares. He got up, and got together another plate of food.

He placed it in front of her. "Here, eat this. You'll feel better."

Aithne eyed the food with misgiving, but she picked up the fork regardless, and began to eat. As she ate, she stopped shaking, and a bit of color came back to her face. She didn't speak until she'd finished, though, and Carth didn't press her.

"Thanks," she said, when she pushed the plate away. "That did help."

Carth looked at her warily, then said, "Look, don't get yourself in a twist, but Bastila said you should go to the Council Chambers before she left. Apparently it's urgent. You shouldn't keep them waiting."

To Carth's surprise, Aithne didn't make a face. She didn't complain. Instead, she nodded. "Fine. At this point, talking to the Jedi might not be a bad idea. Did Bastila say anything else?"

"No, she didn't. She didn't seem well, as I recall, and I'm not sure you're feeling well, either, for that matter. Bastila told me to tell you to go see the Jedi, and you're just going to go?"

_Now_ Aithne made a face. "I know," she said ruefully. "But I've been thinking. I even meditated with Bastila a little. And now this morning..." she paused, frowning. "I've decided to at least hear them out. Shocking, I know."

Carth was slightly impressed, but before he could remark upon this new maturity she looked at him. "But I figure, you're assigned to Bastila. Zaalbar and Mission are with me. Whatever I work out, or don't work out with the Jedi is likely to affect all of us in some way or another. I think it'd probably be good idea to take a couple people with me. What do you say, Carth? You interested?"

Carth grinned, glad to be asked. "I'm in. Who else?"

Aithne thought for a moment. "How'd you think Mission's doing?" she asked quietly.

Carth frowned. Yesterday he'd seen Mission playing Pazaak with Zaalbar, but the little Twi'lek was still very quiet- still shell-shocked. Everyone she knew, every place she'd ever been, her entire history, had been wiped out. "I don't know," he admitted. "It might be a good idea, though, to involve her. To let her know she's one of us, after Taris."

Aithne nodded. "I'll go ask her," she said. "Wait here."

"You got it."

In about seven minutes Aithne came out with Mission. The girl was dressed and armed, and somehow looked more there than she had been for the past two weeks. She also looked harder, older. She'd killed now. Her planet was gone. Carth looked at Aithne, and she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. Mission was okay, at least for now. The three of them left the _Hawk. _They were crossing the quiet, stone courtyard when a yellow-skinned Twi'lek in a dancer's outfit passed. She looked at them curiously for a moment, then stopped. Her face lit up in a brilliant smile, and she walked over.

"Mission?" she said to their young companion. "Is that you? It's me, Lena. Remember? I was dating your brother back on Taris."

Carth stared, bewildered. Mission had a brother? But Aithne didn't look surprised at all. They must have talked about it. Mission looked dumbfounded for a moment, but then her expression shifted to one of disgust. "Lena? What…what are you doing here? Where's Griff?"

Lena apparently then had been together with Mission's brother-Griff- on Taris. But then the two of them had left. Carth looked at Mission. Had her brother left her alone? Aithne stepped a bit closer to Mission- ready to comfort her, he saw, but also ready to restrain her.

"I'm just passing through," Lena said. "Griff and I broke up a few months after we left Taris together. Probably for the best. Your brother can be charming, Mission, but he's bad news." She spoke confidingly, as if Mission was her own younger sister. She was clearly fond of the younger girl.

Mission just as clearly hated Lena. "Don't you start trashing my brother, you cantina rat!" she spat, clenching her little blue fists. "You take that back or I'll smack you so hard your head-tails pop off!"

Carth stepped forward to join Aithne behind Mission, and Lena stepped back. "Wha- Mission, what's wrong with you?" She looked more concerned than angry. "Why are you acting this way?"

Mission looked about ready to deck the other Twi'lek. Aithne stepped forward hastily. "Mission gets a little worked up when it comes to her brother," she apologized.

Lena relaxed. "Yeah, I know how she feels. Griff can be pretty frustrating. I guess that's why Mission didn't want to come with us when we left Taris."

It was Mission's turn to gasp in outrage. "You… you liar! Griff told me you didn't want his little sister tagging along-that's why he had to leave me behind!"

Lena paled in anger, but not, apparently, directed at Mission. "Is that what the Hutt-spawn told you?" she snapped. She stepped forward again, extending her arms to the younger Twi'lek. "I wanted you to come, Mission," she said gently. "I even offered to pay for your ticket! Why not?" and her voice went bitter. "I paid for everything else when I was with that freeloader! But he told me you didn't want to leave Taris. I said we shouldn't even go then. But he said we'd come back for you after we struck it rich on Tatooine-just another one of his lies!"

Mission stepped back, clearly confused and upset. "No-" she murmured. More strongly she shouted, "You're the one who's lying! Griff wouldn't…he wouldn't try to leave me behind!"

Carth understood now. Mission's brother had been dating this Lena- a few months ago- maybe a few years ago. He'd probably been in charge of Mission. But then he'd fallen in love with this Lena, and the obligation had felt a bit heavy. Lena had probably been ready to join the family, but Griff had just wanted to be with Lena. He'd lied to Lena, and he'd lied to Mission, and Lena and Griff had hightailed it off-world, leaving the little girl behind. Carth brought a hand up to rest on the girl's skinny shoulder, and Aithne said gently, "Maybe he thought you were better off on Taris, Mission."

Lena looked sympathetic, but she wasn't going to let Aithne sugarcoat what had happened. "Think about it," she advised. "If Griff wasn't trying to ditch you, Mission, then why didn't he tell you where we were going? After we left Taris, he told me looking after you was holding him back-Griff's always looking to blame other people for his own problems. That's why he abandoned you. He did the same thing to me too, as soon as I ran out of money. He started blaming me for all his problems. Like it's my fault his get-rich-quick schemes never work out!"

Mission looked too confused and hurt to respond. Aithne stepped in again. "So where is Griff now?"

"Still on Taris, as far as I know," said Lena. She scowled. "Not that I really care anymore. And if Mission was smart she'd forget about that no good con-artist!"

Mission looked up at last. "But Griff is my brother," she protested. "I can't just pretend he doesn't exist!" Feebly, she continued. "If he was here to defend himself, Lena wouldn't be saying all this bad stuff about him."

Lena laughed, her patience obviously demolished. "Hey, if you want to talk to Griff, go ahead. Last I heard he was going to make a fortune working the Czerka Corp mines on Tattooine. But as far as I'm concerned, he's out of my life forever!"

Mission regained a bit of her fire. "Griff's better off without you anyway, you table-dancing, brother-stealing, home-wrecker!" But her insults were filled more with fear than with hatred.

Lena deflated. "I guess that's my cue to leave then," she said sadly. "I didn't mean to upset you, Mission. But one day you'll see I'm right about your brother. I only hope it's not too late."

Drooping a little, Lena left. Aithne watched her go, apprehension, worry, and pity written on her features. "Mish," she said, "What do you think?"

Mission scoffed, but her scorn did not reach her eyes. "Don't tell me you believe Lena's lies?" she laughed, in a fake tone Carth had never heard her use before. "Griff might be working as a miner on Tatooine, but the rest of her story is bantha poo-doo. You can't trust someone like her!"

"Was she usually untrustworthy in the time that you knew her?" Carth asked her. He looked at her. What had happened to her was terrible. She didn't deserve it. But he thought it would be better for her if she realized the right of it and moved on as quickly as possible. Mission looked down, uncomfortable.

"At least Griff's free of her clutches," she muttered. She looked up at Aithne, pleading. 'I'd like to go speak to the Czerka Corp rep on Tattooine, if we have time. Maybe I can arrange to see my brother again."

Aithne hesitated. Carth saw worry and calculation battling on her all-too expressive face. She couldn't promise anything. She wasn't even sure she'd have a ship, let alone if she'd have leisure to visit Tattooine and search for Griff Vao. But even if she was, Carth thought, was it really a good idea for the girl to go looking for Griff? He seemed worthless. He'd certainly done an excellent job of messing up Mission's life so far. On the other hand, though, searching for her brother might give Mission something to focus on other than the destruction of Taris, and that was a good thing. Carth snorted a little. The girl wasn't his to worry over, anyway. She was Aithne's responsibility, and- oh. Carth realized it right as Aithne promised to help Mission look for Griff. Whatever Aithne ended up doing, it would probably be dangerous. Zaalbar was a warrior, but Aithne was probably unprepared for the guardianship of a teenage street urchin. Finding Griff Vao probably seemed like an excellent opportunity for her to get Mission off her hands.

Mission expressed her hope that Griff was alright, but then there was nothing to say.

"Ok, ladies, let's go. We've kept the Jedi waiting long enough," Carth said, reminding them of the reason they'd left the ship in the first place. Aithne stuck her tongue out at him, and Mission giggled. The three of them walked inside to the Jedi Council once more.

"Wow," said Mission in a low tone as she looked around the impressive Enclave. "For people who don't care about material gain or worldly pleasures and so on, the Jedi do pretty well for themselves."

Carth distinctly saw a smirk cross Aithne's face. In a stage whisper she said, "That they do, Mission. That they do. But don't tell them that!"

"Why did Bastila want you to come, again?" Carth asked.

Aithne shook her head. "I don't know," she said. "Maybe the Council's stopped arguing about what to do with me." She frowned, and Mission shot her a questioning look.

Aithne led them to the Council Chamber. "Well here we are," she said resignedly. "Come on, then." She walked inside, and motioned for Carth and Mission to follow her. Carth looked at her. They weren't supposed to go see the Jedi Council, were they? She only motioned again. Mission followed her, and Carth, after a moment, did the same.

Aithne strode forward, chin out, up to the Jedi Council.

A grumpy looking old man in an orange tunic glared at her. "Why have you brought these Outsiders to our Council, Scout Morrigan?" he demanded.

Bastila, standing off to the side of the group of four old Jedi, looked nervous, but Aithne was unfazed. "These Outsiders, as you call them, are my good friends," she replied in a clear, strong voice. "Without them I never could have rescued Padawan Bastila from the Black Vulkars on Taris. Whatever happens to me will affect them also. They stay."

Orange-tunic looked offended. Carth didn't blame him. Aithne had practically just given the Council a command. The woman had guts. Orange-tunic might have protested, but a red Twi'lek intervened.

"Very well," he said slowly. "They shall stay."

"Right," Aithne said, "Carth, Mission, this is Master Vrook, Master Vandar, Master Zhar, and Master Dorak," she said quickly. "Masters, this is Carth Onasi and Mission Vao." Carth caught Aithne's look at the Council. It promised to treat the Council with respect, so long as the Council returned the favor. Carth held back a snort with difficulty. Trust Aithne to bargain with the Jedi.

To his great surprise, Master Vandar, the little green man that appeared to be the leader, gave a little half bow to him and to Mission. "Carth. Mission. Welcome. The Council has heard of your brave efforts on behalf of Padawan Bastila." He then turned his attention to Aithne. "Bastila has told us of a most unusual development," he said. "She claims you and she have shared a dream, a vision of Malak and Revan in the ancient ruins here on Dantooine."

Aithne flinched. Carth realized what had alarmed the two women this morning. He saw Aithne look at Bastila warily. Then she nodded, jaw set and face white. Carth was bothered. What manner of woman was Aithne?

"These ruins have long been known to us," offered the man Aithne had called Master Dorak, a man younger and nicer-looking than the others, "But we believed them to be merely burial mounds. Perhaps they are more than we first suspected, if Revan and Malak found something there."

Carth saw Aithne shiver. "I don't want to talk about it," she said forcefully. Her face was closed off, wooden. Carth had never seen her like this.

Master Vandar smiled slightly. "There is no need," he told her. "Bastila has described this shared dream to the Council in great detail. We feel it is more than a dream. It is a vision. The Force is acting through you, as it acts through Bastila."

Aithne rocked from side to side slightly. "So, what?" she demanded. "I'm having visions now?" Her voice was loud, aggressive. She winced, seeming to regret this. "What's happening to me?" she almost whispered.

Master Zhar's voice was kind as he responded. "You and Bastila share a powerful connection to the Force…and each other. This is not unheard of. Connections often form between Master and student, but rarely does a bond develop so quickly."

"Whatever dangers may lie ahead," said Master Vandar in an important sort of voice, "we cannot ignore the destiny that brought you and Bastila here to us. Together."

Bastila spoke up for the first time. "With all due respect, Masters, I make no claim to being Aithne's Master. She and no one else may claim that position." She gave a sort of ironic smile. It was not so hard for Carth to trace her thoughts back to her various clashes with Aithne. Now, though, Aithne smiled at her.

She seemed to take her cue from Bastila's words, though, for when she spoke her voice was much more respectful. "Jedi Masters, I'm not sure exactly what you mean."

Vandar relaxed a bit. "You and she are linked," he explained, "as is your fate to hers. Together, you may be able to stop Darth Malak and the Sith."

Carth's heart began to race. If what the Jedi were saying was true, then whatever help he could offer Bastila and Aithne would be more than worth it. Mission was standing tall, and Carth saw Aithne's eyes flash.

Vrook cut in, "But do not let your head be filled with visions of glory and power! Such thoughts are the path to the Dark Side! The way of the light is long and difficult, as you must learn. Are you ready for such hardship?"

"I can handle anything you throw at me!" Aithne retorted proudly. Carth almost laughed. The statement was so like Aithne, but the grumpy Jedi's face soured. Carth supposed it might sound a little proud, at that. "Why, though, must I follow your 'way of the light'?" Aithne asked him.

"There is little choice in this matter, for you or us," Vandar said gravely. "Across the galaxy the numbers of our order dwindle. We have sent many Jedi in quest of a way to thwart Malak's advance." He lowered his head sadly. "Many have not returned. The Sith hunt the Jedi down like animals, ambushing and assassinating our brothers wherever they are found. We fear it is only a matter of time before they discover even this hidden refuge."

Carth imagined this peaceful Enclave perishing in fire like Taris. The Jedi would be hunted to extinction if the Sith won. Aithne seemed to realize this. Her face was a study of sudden pity for the Jedi, and hatred for Malak and the Sith. "How can he be stopped?" she asked in a low voice.

"Perhaps our hope lies in the dream you and Bastila shared," admitted Vrook finally. Carth wondered why he should be the one to admit it. He seemed to be the Council-member to like Aithne the least. Carth remembered Aithne had talked about him. Strangely, Carth trusted him the most. He felt the most honest, somehow. "The Council has come to the conclusion that you and Bastila must investigate the ancient ruins you dreamed of."

"Perhaps there you will find some clue, some explanation of how Revan and Malak were corrupted," said Dorak. "And perhaps there you will find a way to stop them."

"Well that's easy enough," admitted Aithne. Master Dorak shifted uneasily. Aithne caught it, quick as lightning. She tensed. "What's the catch?" she demanded.

The Twi'lek almost laughed aloud, and Master Vrook glared at him. "The Force flows through you like no student we have ever seen," he said finally. "But you are willful and headstrong, a dangerous combination."

"I'll say," Carth muttered, thinking of his own doubts about Aithne Morrigan, and also how deadly she'd already proven to be to her enemies. Aithne shot him a poisonous look, and he realized she had heard him.

"It's worked well for me!" she declared to all present, drawing herself up.

Vandar shook his little green head. "Before we send you to investigate the ruins, you must be trained in the ways of the Jedi so that you can resist the darkness within yourself…within us all."

"Why must I be a Jedi to resist my inner darkness?" asked Aithne fluidly. Her voice was reasonable, light. Carth found himself wanting her to speak more. "And why is it my responsibility to resist everyone's? Can I not help Bastila to save the galaxy without submitting to the Order? I have done well so far, have I not?"

Vrook stiffened. Bastila paled until she resembled nothing so much as a Jedi-shaped piece of paper. Even the Twi'lek, who seemed the Council member to like Aithne best by far, cooled noticeably. Vandar alone remained impassive.

"Aithne Morrigan, do you realize that you are using the Force at this very moment to attempt to sway us from our purpose?"

Carth blinked. She had been? He hadn't realized. She hadn't either. Aithne gave a great shudder. Her knees shook. For a second she seemed quite like she was going to fall. "No, Master Vandar," she said in a gasp of a voice. "I did not. I'm so sorry." She looked about ready to cry.

Zhar's expression immediately became kinder. "Aithne, it is natural for you to use the Force. But if you train with us, we can teach you to control it so that you never use it without trying."

This was it, Carth realized. This was the decision his mission, everyone's mission turned on. If Aithne said yes, he might be stuck here for years while Bastila helped her through training. But if she was as strong as the Jedi said, strong enough to have a bond with Bastila, strong enough that they'd train her at nearly thirty…Aithne hesitated a long moment. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion at the Jedi. Then, to his surprise, she looked at him. Her expression grew even more uncertain. Carth wondered if she was worrying about his assignment. It would be like her. But in something as big as this, she shouldn't consider him. But then she looked at Mission. The teenager was looking pleadingly at Aithne. Carth saw something pass between the two of them, and Aithne's face hardened in resolve. She looked once more at him, and now her eyes were sad, then she faced Master Vandar.

"I will train," she said quietly, and sealed Carth's fate. A sour taste rose in Carth's mouth. How much longer?

"Very well," said Master Zhar. "We must begin your training at once. You have a destiny on you that you must be prepared to face, Jedi or not. The entire fate of the galaxy is on you."

"But no pressure," Aithne murmured to them sarcastically. Carth cracked a smile. He felt a little better. It sounded like her training was a matter of some urgency. Maybe he'd only be here for a little over a year. It was doable. He'd been assigned to yearlong missions before. Master Zhar gestured for Aithne to follow him.

She did, and Carth and Mission moved to follow her, but Bastila stopped them.

"You two should return to the _Ebon Hawk_," she told them. "Aithne will need to be undisturbed during her training." For some reason, she looked at Carth during this last bit. Carth wondered what she could mean, but Mission grabbed his arm.

"Come on," she said quietly. "When Aithne starts messing around with the Force, we don't want to distract her. I'm guessing that would be bad, right?" Bastila nodded solemnly.

Aithne realized they were leaving, and she stopped suddenly. "Masters, I want to be able to visit the crew of the _Ebon Hawk_," she said.

Vrook looked doubtful. But the other three exchanged looks. Finally, Master Zhar said, "Very well, you may spend your nights aboard the _Ebon Hawk_ with its crew, if you wish. We have no desire to separate you from these others."

Aithne smiled at the red-skinned old Twi'lek. "I thank you, Master Jedi." She waved. "Mish, Carth, I'll catch you later," she said.

And Bastila followed Aithne out of the room after the Jedi to begin Aithne's training. Mission went with Carth.

"We better break the news to the others," he told her. "Aithne might not get to visit the Ebon Hawk for nights. Ordo might want to take off."

Mission frowned. "What will we do then?" she asked.

Carth shrugged. "The Jedi have rooms for non-Jedi," he said. "They are judges and peacekeepers throughout the galaxy. Their Enclaves are safe places. If he takes the ship, they'll put us up."

"Us. You aren't going?"

Carth shook his head. "No. My orders are to guard Bastila. For now, that means staying here with her and Aithne. It might be a while."

Mission considered this. "The Jedi don't train in a few weeks, do they?" she asked.

"No. Bastila probably started when she was a toddler. And she's still learning." He let a bit of his bitterness color his voice, and Mission looked up at him worriedly.

"Yeah, but you're okay, aren't you? I mean, it's safe here, for now. Isn't that good?"

Carth forced a smile. "Yes," he lied.

"I'll find Big Z and explain things," Mission offered when they came to the ship.

Carth nodded. He wasn't looking forward to talking things over with Ordo.

Surprisingly, the Mandalorian only grunted when he heard the news. He didn't start talking about leaving, and only mentioned the hunting was good on Dantooine. "I hear they have some problems with kath hounds," he said. "It ought to be interesting, at least, shooting down the dogs, if not much of a challenge." He shrugged.

That was that, apparently. Carth didn't question Ordo further. Aithne could figure out what the Mandalorian's game was. Carth had spent far too much time fighting Mandalorians to have much use for Canderous Ordo.

* * *

><p>AITHNE POV<p>

In the six weeks that followed, Aithne blossomed like a flower in the sun. She wondered, at times, exactly what she had been so afraid of. Each and every new exercise she learned seemed familiar and right, and she found herself breezing through her Jedi apprenticeship. Zhar was a constant presence, advising her, pushing her gently, praising her every now and then. Bastila was always around, too, and Aithne slowly grew accustomed to the girl, even to the point that if Bastila went away for a few hours, Aithne started to miss her. They sparred, both verbally and physically. At first, Bastila defeated her every time. But as Aithne learned to reach out and fight with the Force, she quickly gained every inch of Bastila's skill with a blade, and even more. Sometimes she could even best Master Zhar.

She knew the other apprentices and Padawans talked about her behind her back. Stories circulated as to how she had come by her skills. Aithne heard rumors that she had been a Dark Jedi before, and even one that she was a Mandalorian in disguise. It was a well-known fact that she traveled with one, especially with the kath hounds Canderous was slaying every day, and the disputes he sometimes started with farmers. But every time Aithne meditated, and reached out to feel the life and richness of the Force, she wondered how in the world anyone could fail to excel with the Force at their back.

She devoured book after book of the Order's history, marveling at the tales they told. They were better than many a novel she'd read, and more thrilling than many a holovid. Dorak grew very fond of her passionate love for knowledge.

She often talked with Bastila, during quiet hours. They argued over the meaning of good and evil, and the purpose of the Force, and the Jedi's place in the galaxy. Bastila had a very limited knowledge of the world, and Aithne found that it was actually a pleasure to instruct the sheltered Jedi. The younger woman, in return, showed Aithne that some of her views about the Jedi and their Order were wrong. The Jedi did do a lot of good in the galaxy, she demonstrated. She introduced Aithne to orphans the Jedi were educating at the Enclave, and led her to the chamber a few times when the Council passed fair and wise judgment on feuding farmers. Aithne watched, and she learned. Sometimes she apologized. Both women learned from one another, and were better for it.

Every evening, Aithne returned to the _Ebon Hawk_. The ship became a home, of sorts, and her crew became a very strange family. Aithne played Pazaak with Mission. She debated honor with Zaalbar and Canderous. Sometimes T3 would play sappy holovids for her, Mission, and Bastila, and they'd all laugh at the ridiculous melodramas in them.

At first, she talked and joked with Carth a lot, too. She enjoyed his intelligent observations, and delighted in his sense of humor. But as the weeks passed, he withdrew more and more. He started roaming the plains with Canderous and Zaalbar, oddly enough. When he began it, Aithne thought it was a good thing. The fights decreased dramatically, and indeed, she began to receive reports of civilians the three of them had helped. But Mission whispered that Carth had also taken to pacing in circles around the courtyard at night, gazing at the stars and muttering to himself. His frustration was mounting. Aithne could feel it, but she didn't have time to confront him about it.

Or allowance either, really. The Jedi frowned upon all attachment. Bastila tended to come in and change the subject if Aithne tried to talk to Carth for too long, or even to make some excuse and take Aithne away. Aithne supposed she had been allowed to remain friends with the others because the Jedi imagined they might be useful in whatever mission she took on after her training, but the Jedi were uneasy about the pilot. It annoyed her. Aithne appreciated the training she was receiving. She was enjoying learning to use the Force. She understood herself much better than she had done. But there were several points she disagreed with the Jedi on, nonetheless, and their stance on emotion and attachment was one of them.

Nevertheless, at the end of six weeks, Zhar informed her that she was ready to move up to Padawan, ready to ascend to the same rank as Bastila. As soon as she passed the tests to attain that rank, she and her crew would be sent out on a mission. Aithne knew the Jedi were grooming her to fight Malak with Bastila, so the day before the testing, she approached Master Zhar.

"Master Zhar," she said, "I need to ask you some questions. Questions about Revan and Malak."

Zhar looked back at her hard, and then nodded slowly. "Few mention those names around here anymore," he returned softly, "but I suppose it is just as dangerous to deny they were ever a part of the Order. When I was still on Coruscant, Revan and Malak often came to me for additional training. In particular, Revan's hunger to learn seemed insatiable. I should have recognized this as a warning sign. But I perceived the young Padawan's lust for knowledge as simple exuberance and eagerness. Revan was my most promising pupil. One I felt sure would someday become a Champion of the Jedi Order."

He talked as if it had been another life, Aithne observed. But according to her history, it would have only been seven years ago when Revan left the Order to defeat the Mandalorians. "What happened?" Aithne asked.

"The Jedi Order moved too slowly for Revan and Malak. We were too cautious in their eyes. They always sought to learn far quicker than their Masters felt was prudent. It is one thing to understand a lesson," Zhar explained, "but to truly comprehend it takes a wisdom that only comes with time. Several years ago, when the Mandalorian threat first arose, Revan and Malak were eager to journey to the Outer Rim to defeat the enemy of the Republic. But the Council felt it best if we moved with care and caution. The true threat, the Council feared, had not yet manifested itself. But Revan would not be dissuaded." Zhar bowed his head sadly. "Charismatic and powerful, it was inevitable that many of the Order would flock to Revan's seemingly noble cause. Malak was the first to join his closest friend. Others soon followed, many of our youngest and brightest, intent on saving the galaxy from the Mandalorian threat."

Aithne thought for a moment. To her, it sounded like Revan had merely been a brilliant young knight who hated being forced to wait while people needed help, and while innocents were being slaughtered. Not unlike herself, Aithne thought reluctantly. "So they disobeyed the Council and saved the galaxy…" she summed up. "And that was…bad?"

Master Zhar glared at her. "They were foolish to disregard the Council's wishes," he said forcefully. "I do not know what happened to Revan, Malak, and their followers on the farthest reaches of the Outer Rim, but something corrupted them. Their ideals became twisted, their spirits were tainted, and they fell to the dark side. There is a lesson in this, a lesson you would do well to take to heart: the Dark Side can corrupt even the most noble of Jedi."

"Wait…" Aithne said, realizing something. "You never actually said that Revan was wrong to go fight the Mandalorians. Only foolish. And your words imply that you considered Revan one of the noblest of Jedi. Do you think Revan was right, then?"

Zhar looked at her in silence. He seemed very sad. "How old was Revan when he died?" Aithne asked, on a hunch.

"Had sh…had Revan lived, Revan would be twenty-eight now." Zhar said. He looked away, as if he'd said too much.

"You almost said something. She. Was Revan a woman?" Aithne asked.

Zhar looked at Aithne bleakly, and nodded. His sorrow rolled off him in waves.

"You loved her. Like a daughter." Aithne said. It was not a question.

"I did."

"I'm sorry."

Zhar shook his head and motioned her to leave. Aithne was left to wonder. Revan had been younger than Bastila was now when she had first entered the Mandalorian wars, and only seven years older than Mission. And Revan had been a woman, maybe a woman not unlike Aithne herself. This indeed was something to ponder. For Revan had saved the galaxy. And then the woman Revan had proceeded to tyrannize it. Knowing Revan's age and gender somehow made her human in Aithne's eyes, and she meditated. She meditated on how this noblest of Jedi had possibly turned. How someone so good could have become so evil. And how she herself could easily fall into Revan's trap, should she not take care.


	13. An Unconventional Jedi

**Disclaimer: KotOR belongs to Lucas Art and Bioware.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Thirteen<p>

"I'm taking the tests to pass to Padawan today," Aithne informed Bastila at breakfast.

Bastila nodded. "I suspected you might soon enough," she said.

"But that would make her, like, the Jedi with the fastest training time ever, right?" asked Mission. Aithne looked at her inquisitively. "I wheedled Master Dorak into letting me read some history books," the teenager explained. Canderous, Carth, and even Bastila stared blankly at her. "I was bored, alright?" the girl said defensively. That got a chuckle from around the conference table. Six weeks of rest and talk and play with the crew of the _Ebon Hawk_ had done wonders for Mission. She wasn't quite the same child she had been when Aithne had met her on Taris. She never would be again. Her eyes would always retain the shadow of the massacre of her homeworld. But she had regained her appetite, her voice, and much of her good humor.

"Yes, Mission," replied Bastila. "In reference to your question, should Aithne pass her tests, she will be the apprentice with the all-time lowest training time. I worry what that means for her…" she added in an ominous tone.

"Bastila, please don't lecture me on the dangers of the Dark Side," begged Aithne. "Not today."

Aithne saw Canderous smirk. The two women fought over the Dark Side more than anything else. Aithne didn't quite see the galaxy as he did, but nor did she exactly buy everything the Jedi were teaching her. A few days after she'd signed on with the Jedi, she had asked him if he had plans to go. The Mandalorian had let her know that, far from bailing, he fully intended to stick with her. He considered the _Ebon Hawk_ to be their joint property, and now that the Jedi were training her for use in the war against Malak, Canderous was positively looking forward to going along with her wherever she was sent after training. _I want in on that fight, _he'd said. Aithne had shrugged. She didn't mind his company. She liked the big, violent Mandalorian. Sometimes she felt a bit guilty about how much she liked him. He certainly was no stoic Jedi pacifist. Bastila didn't like him much at all. But today, Bastila wasn't going to be difficult.

"As you wish," said Bastila primly. "You get off easy. Today." She gave Aithne one of her trademark little half-smiles. Aithne had discovered that years of Jedi training hadn't quite buried Bastila's sense of humor, and was doing her best to encourage its reemergence.

"Do you want to come with me and watch me become a Jedi?" she asked Bastila politely.

"Overconfidence, Aithne," chided Bastila. "But yes. I would find it most interesting to watch you undergo the trials."

"Anyone else?" Aithne asked. Canderous shook his head. T3 beeped something about upgrading the _Hawk_. Zaalbar roared his farewell. As the others left to go about their various activities, though, Carth and Mission stayed put firmly in their seats. Aithne grinned at them. Out of the Ebon Hawk's little non-Jedi crew, the pilot and the Twi'lek were the most comfortable with the Jedi, and the two people that Aithne herself liked best.

"It's always you two, isn't it?" she said. "Come on, then, Carth, Mission. Come on and welcome."

Mission grinned. Carth shrugged and shouldered his pack, which he still insisted on taking everywhere he went.

The four jogged to the Training Room. Zhar stood there waiting. "Soon your apprenticeship will end," he intoned, beginning the ritual of the trials, "and you will be granted the title of Padawan, the lowest rank of those within the Jedi Order. Yet first you must prove yourself worthy. First I shall test your knowledge of the Jedi Code. I will speak, and you will complete the sentence."

"I am ready, Master Zhar," said Aithne. And indeed she was. She had studied that Code and meditated on its meaning until she thought her eyeballs would fall out. Argued over it with Bastila, too.

"Indeed. Begin. There is no emotion;" Zhar said.

"There is peace," replied Aithne. This first precept of the Jedi was the one she had debated over most with Bastila. She had yet to come to agree with it. She did not think she ever would. While the Force brought her peace, Aithne could never seem to restrain her emotions, and she was not entirely sure why she should. The Masters themselves seemed to have difficulty with this concept; she had observed sadness in Zhar and anger in Vrook on more than one occasion. Luckily, Aithne had not agreed to be a Jedi, only to train as one to better learn to regulate the Force so she no longer used it unintentionally. She had realized this loophole two weeks into training, but she did not believe the Jedi had yet, and thought it was just as well.

"There is no ignorance;" continued Zhar.

"There is knowledge," answered Aithne. That was a statement she could not imagine disagreeing with. Any attempt to learn was an opportunity not to be passed by.

"There is no passion;"

"There is serenity." Aithne disagreed with this as well. From what she could tell, her passion for life was what had brought her to this place, and in her passion, she found a purpose that helped to maintain her serenity. But now was not the time to quibble philosophy with Master Zhar.

"There is no chaos;"

"There is harmony," replied Aithne. In spite of everything, she did believe that there was a pattern and a purpose to the universe, the Force running through it all. Even though sometimes it seemed there was no harmony, Aithne had learned, both through her training and in her life, to always find the melody beneath the cacophony.

"There is no death;" finished Zhar.

"There is the Force," finished Aithne. Zhar smiled.

"Very good. Now for your next test. The lightsaber," he began in that tone that meant he was about to lecture. "Is the traditional weapon of our Order. It is a symbol of a Jedi's skill, dedication, and authority, and each lightsaber is as individual as the Jedi who wields it. The blade is made of pure energy, focused by polished crystals in the hilt. As the second test, each Jedi must construct her lightsaber with her own hands. And now it is your time. Go. Speak with Master Dorak and he will guide you through the choosing of a crystal."

"You could have just said that, you know," Aithne retorted impudently. "You didn't have to go on at me about things I've spent the past six weeks studying." She sat back on her heel, hands on her hips, and delivered a sassy glare to her teacher. Bastila opened her mouth, shocked. Zhar, however, smiled, and waved her off. As Aithne left to find Dorak, Carth and Mission allowed themselves to smile.

"Good to know all the training hasn't changed you, Aithne," Carth said in an undertone.

"Me? Never!" Aithne cried, grinning. Beside her, Bastila frowned.

Dorak was just in the next room, apparently waiting for her. He smiled as she strode up. In her weeks at the Academy, Aithne had formed an especially close friendship with the wise old Chronicler, mostly due to their mutual love of reading. "Ah, you have come, apprentice, at Master Zhar's bidding. He sees great promise in you…" related Dorak, pausing before adding, "as do I. The time has come for you to choose the color of your lightsaber. This color also reflects your demeanor and position within the Order."

"Ok," said Aithne. "So I get a new job. What positions are there?"

Dorak smiled. "Blue is the color of the Jedi Guardian. This Jedi battles against the forces of evil and the Dark Side. They focus more on combat training and use of the lightsaber."

Aithne frowned. The Guardian sounded like a muscleman, something she assuredly was not. She liked to ask questions before she squashed people, to insure that they needed to be squashed in the first place. And she was not sure that any sentient was the living embodiment of evil or the dark side. She nodded for Dorak to continue, indicating her non-interest.

"Yellow is the color of the Jedi Sentinel," said Master Dorak, nodding at Bastila, who beamed. "This Jedi ferrets out deceit and injustice, bringing it to light. They focus less on combat and more on other skills and abilities."

Aithne liked the sound of "other skills and abilities," but she didn't like the idea of being a professional busybody and tell-tale. "Go on," she said.

"Green is the color of the Jedi Consular," finished Dorak. "This Jedi seeks to bring balance to the universe. They mediate between other groups, using their powers to end conflict and preserve peace."

Aithne felt a heat rise inside of her. _Mediator. Preserver of peace. Bringing balance to the universe. _She could do that. She _did_ do that, whenever she could. She bit her lip, and looked up at Master Dorak. "I think I'd be a better Consular than anything else," she told him quietly.

"Indeed," Dorak said, "We shall see. I will ask you a few questions, apprentice, to see which color and path you tend most towards. Are you ready?"

"Yes, Master Dorak."

"Begin. A woman and her small child are beset by a desperate gang of thugs. They cry to you for help. What do you do?"

Without hesitation, Aithne replied, "I stop the thugs and find out why they are attacking her. You said they looked desperate. Maybe there is some nonviolent solution to their problem I can help them to find."

"Yes, I suspected as much. Next question. You are in combat with a Dark Jedi allied with the Sith. There is a pause in the fighting. What do you do?"

"I initiate a conversation," said Aithne. "Everyone has a story. I find out why he became a Sith and try to convince him to change his allegiance."

"Ah. Of course. Next question. There is a locked door, and your goal lies on the other side of it. What do you do?"

Aithne laughed, realizing a big part Master Dorak hadn't told her. "I knock. You never said that what's on the other side is an enemy."

"I'm beginning to see a pattern here, apprentice," laughed Master Dorak. "I have a feeling as to what you would be best at. But first, the final question. You are the head of an enclave on a contested world. The Sith have been causing chaos. What do you do?"

"I work with the planetary government to identify and stop the infiltrators," said Aithne. Suddenly, she felt dizzy, with an odd sense of déjà vu.

"Of course you do. Here's your crystal. Green, Consular Aithne. Good instincts."

"A Consular," murmured Bastila. "Consulars are among the wisest and most powerful Jedi."

Aithne was really very pleased, but she waved Bastila's words away. "Oh, stop. Really, stop, you're making me blush."

She led the others into the training room once again, and Zhar solemnly presented her with materials and sent her to the workbench. Carth, Mission, and Bastila sat down wearily on the edges of the room. Aithne focused on the materials at hand.

Some other woman's hands seemed to take over. It was all as if she'd done this before. She set the crystal, and tweaked the circuitry like she'd been doing it for decades. Aithne herself marveled at how she somehow knew what to do. She had read several books on the subject, but she had not practiced at all. She added some weight to the hilt, to mimic the balance of her vibroblades. Having done that, she decorated her lightsaber with ornate silver and bronze scrollwork, leaves and slashes and curlicues that somehow seemed to fit. Finally, maybe three hours later, she stood back from the workbench. It was finished. She lifted the lightsaber, her lightsaber, pleased with the heft of it. It was perfectly fashioned for her grip and hers alone.

Holding her breath, she switched it on. The lightsaber hummed to life, its long, pure green energy blade sliding forth from the hilt. Slowly, she strode back to Master Zhar. She switched off the lightsaber and handed it to him carefully.

He examined it for a few moments, smiling with delighted respect. Finally, he looked up. "You have done extremely well in constructing your lightsaber, apprentice. The crystal seems to have been set perfectly. It is rare indeed for that to happen the first time one constructs their lightsaber. Your lightsaber identifies you as a member of the Jedi Order," he continued. "With such recognition comes honor and respect…and the attention of dangerous enemies. The Sith and Dark Jedi will seek to destroy you, apprentice, and you must prove yourself worthy against a foe who also wields a lightsaber. Are you ready to face the final trial, apprentice?"

"What? You keep Dark Jedi around in a cage somewhere to test graduating apprentices?" joked Aithne. Zhar did not laugh. Aithne resumed her serious expression. "I'm ready, Master Zhar."

"Very well," said Zhar, his tone very grave. "For every Jedi the threat of the Dark Side is always present. You must truly understand this before you are accepted into the Order. You must see the corruption of the Dark Side for yourself. Even here on Dantooine there are places where the Dark Side holds sway, twisting and tainting nature itself. The ancient grove once used for deep meditation by the Jedi is now tainted, a wave of darkness perverts the region around it. The kath hounds in the area have become savage and ruthless. They have become a threat to the settlers, a threat the Jedi have promised to stop."

"Yeah, Canderous and Zaalbar have been out killing kath hounds almost every day," said Aithne. "It's how they get their kicks, I guess. What would you have me do?"

"The kath hounds are but a symptom of the true problem. You must journey into the grove and confront the true source of the darkness. That is your task."

There was something very odd about his wording. "Master Zhar, what do you mean by confront it?" asked Aithne. "What else do you know about this darkness?"

Zhar smiled rather sadly. "I can say no more; some things you must work out for yourself. None of the other Jedi at the Academy are permitted to help you in this task. But remember this, my young apprentice," he said, eyes full of meaning. "A Jedi acts with patience and care, and those on the dark path are not always lost forever. As long as the Dark Side taints the ancient grove, your lessons cannot continue. Stop the corruption of the Dark Side. This is your task, apprentice. May the Force be with you."

Aithne turned to her companions. "Guess you can't come with me, Bas, huh?"

"I'm afraid not," said the Jedi girl with genuine regret.

"Ok, guys," Aithne said, turning to Mission and Carth. "Let's head back to the Ebon Hawk. I want to see if Canderous might be interested in wading through kath hounds to confront the corruption of the Dark Side."

"You got it," said Carth, and the three of them left the Academy, leaving Bastila behind.

Canderous was all-too willing to go wading through kath hounds, given any excuse under the suns. Carth also wished to accompany Aithne, but Mission begged off. Canderous got ready, and in not too long a time, the three of them had set out. As the group walked through the Enclave, Aithne made conversation with Canderous.

"Do you have any more stories, Canderous?"

Canderous smiled, in a good mood because they were headed out to kill things. "Oh, have it your way." He adopted that teaching tone and manner once again. "I was one of the best youth warriors in Clan Ordo in my time," he began. "No one before me had mastered the power of our Basilisk war droids as quickly as I had. Except Mandalore himself, of course," he added hastily, and Aithne hid a smile. "In those days we were sweeping across the Outer Rim, destroying all who fought us. Young Mandalores would prove themselves in real combat with unknown opponents above a thousand worlds. Each brought back the story of his achievements."

Carth was looking at Canderous with an incredulous expression that wavered between disgust and respect. Aithne sympathized, but tended more to respect the grizzled old warrior than to be disgusted.

"What was your story?" she asked softly.

"I remember it well," replied Canderous wistfully, "orbiting high above a placid world, its defenses just stirring. As was tradition, I would go ahead of the first wave to find enemies in the thickest fighting. I remember sitting there in my armor, linked directly with the Basilisk thrumming beneath me, my heart racing with fear at the coming battle." He trailed off, lost in the memory of the sensation that he felt anew in the telling.

"What happened next?" Aithne prompted eventually.

"The doors opened in front of me and the air was sucked out of the drop bay," Canderous narrated, "scattering crystals of frozen vapor across my path. I can't describe what it feels like to look directly down at a world, falling continuously as you circle it, with barely fifteen centimeters of armor plate protecting you. When the magnetic locks disengaged on my droid I plunged out of the drop bay towards the battle that waited below."

"Wait," Carth put in. "Are you telling me you dropped from orbit riding a droid?"

"Hush!" Aithne said. Carth scowled, though on a face any less manly Aithne might have called his expression a pout.

Canderous smiled at Aithne, and continued. "The exhilaration, the euphoria, I felt as I streaked into the atmosphere, dodging self-guided projectile and beam weapons, was unmatched. An eighty kilometer plunge through the atmosphere, dodging and weaving, the outside of my armor glowing like the sun with the heat of re-entry and with barely thirty meters to spare, I twisted and skimmed the surface, firing at the giant beam generators that were in my path. The explosion from that sent shockwaves that leveled the entire complex around it. It was the moment of my life."

He ended proudly, standing even taller in the Dantooine sun just outside the Enclave in the courtyard. Aithne shook her head admiringly. "I don't know if the fight was just that good, or you just made it sound that way, but I'm impressed. If it was that good, more power to you, but in any case, your way with words is incredible."

Canderous' eyes narrowed. "It really did happen that way, Morrigan," he said. "And you'd be wise to believe me."

Carth shifted so that he walked a little closer to Aithne. "She didn't mean it that way, Ordo," he said. "She was just remarking on how well you expressed yourself. Really, it's funny. You tell that incredible story, and _that's_ what she gets out of it." Canderous looked a little mollified, and Carth forced a smile. Aithne ran through the last words, and bit her lip, realizing what she had inadvertently done.

"Oh, Force, Canderous," she said, "I didn't mean to doubt your honor." She straightened, regaining her composure and her formality. "Forgive me for my lapse in articulation. I honor you for your mighty feats," she said carefully. Canderous relaxed.

Canderous Ordo was a Mandalorian without armor. To students of history across the galaxy, that meant not only one of the most courageous and honorable Mandalorians alive, but also an incredibly strong one. To have survived when most of his fellows had not was quite a feat, and the fact that he had no armor testified to his presence at Revan's final victory, when the hero had defeated Mandalore the Ultimate in single combat and destroyed all of the opposing army's Basilisks and armor. Not only had Canderous survived the wars, but he had stayed loyal to his cause for the duration, when so many had fled. Aithne grimaced. His honor was without question. She'd really made a stupid remark.

But apparently she'd said enough. "I'll never forget those times," he told Aithne, "But…things are different now. We can't go on fighting the way we did. There are too few of us left now. But I don't really want to talk about this anymore. I trust I've satisfied your curiosity for now?"

Aithne grinned saucily up at him. "For now," she chirped, and Carth groaned. "But you know I'll be back!"

"Have it your way," Canderous growled, not amused. "Can we go crush some kath hounds now?"

The three companions were barely fifty yards out of the compound before they were set upon by the first group of kath hounds. After the first three skirmishes, Aithne was fairly well frustrated.

"Will the pests, to use a favorite phrase of a certain Twi'lek, just die already?" she said, tucking an errant strand of sweaty hair behind her ear. Carth chuckled, recalling Mission's favorite battle-cry. Canderous looked at Aithne in bafflement, completely confounded that anyone should not like to be killing kath hounds all day, every day.

It was slow, it was painful, but eventually, Aithne and her companions reached the formerly sacred Grove.

"How does one go about detecting, locating, and stopping corruption?" Aithne panted lightly, not really expecting an answer.

"You could, I don't know, try using those senses that the Jedi have been hammering into you for six weeks," Carth suggested wryly.

"But that's just a suggestion," added Canderous, amused.

Aithne glared at both of them, and they just smiled innocently back at her. Or, rather, Carth smiled innocently. Canderous' scarred face looked like something out of a nightmare when he was trying to look innocent. "Now, do you two really want to antagonize a Jedi?"

"I wouldn't mind," Canderous said, almost eagerly.

But Carth just looked back at her placidly. "You won't do anything," he told Aithne. "You're a Jedi. The Masters would disapprove if you maimed us, and they'd talk at you for hours."

Aithne scowled at him. "I've never been too interested in being the good-girl Jedi," she growled. "That's Bastila's gig."

"You still won't kill us," Carth said. "You'd miss us too much, beautiful."

_Confound him, _Aithne thought. "Ignoring you!" she sang. He was right, though, as annoying as he was being about it. She looked away, reaching out with her feelings for the source of the corruption. She closed her eyes, and turned her head slightly.

She opened them again after a moment, and pointed to the east decidedly. "We need to go that way."

"After you, Fearless Leader," Carth bowed. Aithne stuck her tongue out at him. But she indeed started out, focusing hard on the source of the disturbance in the Grove.

So hard was she focusing, that she didn't notice the Twi'lek Jedi Knight in her path until she looked up to find him blocking it. He studied her impassively, and Aithne sighed inwardly. He obviously wanted something.

"Apprentice, your arrival here is well timed," he said as she drew nearer.

"I could have guessed you were going to say that," Aithne told him. "Who are you and what do you need?"

"I am Bolook, a Jedi from the Enclave," the Jedi said importantly. "I do not wonder that you have not seen me before. The Masters have kept you busy. But I know who you are, Aithne Morrigan. The whole Enclave knows of your talents. I was sent by the Jedi Council to investigate a killing that took place here a few hours ago. Communication does not pose a problem, as both the subjects and I speak Basic and Huttese. I was going to handle this case myself, but as soon as I sensed your presence here I thought that this could be an excellent opportunity for you to demonstrate how well you have been learning your lessons at the Academy. Though you are not yet a full Jedi," he said condescendingly, "perhaps you could assist me in sorting out the truth from the lies."

"You wouldn't consider moving and _actually_ handling the case yourself?" Aithne asked, without much hope.

The Twi'lek missed the point. "I could," he said, "but I would be forced to report your refusal to the Council. They might see it as incapability on your part."

"Oh, for the Force's sake don't sic the Council on me," Aithne cried out, exasperated. They'd talk at her for hours! "What do you want me to do?"

Bolook smiled in satisfaction. "Listen to the stories given by the suspects. I have brought an information retrieval droid with access to the archives both at the Jedi Enclave and the planetary capital. I will use my wisdom and experience to offer you some guidance, but I will not solve the case for you. There is little benefit if you do not solve the problem yourself."

"There is little benefit to whom?" Carth asked in an undertone to Aithne. She gave a tight grin in response. He was quick, Carth. Bolook continued his lecture.

"Consider each man's account and check the facts with the information droid. Once you have gathered all the evidence you think you need, run through the possible scenario with me. If you are unable to come up with a satisfactory resolution, then I will take these men to the Enclave and deal with this myself. According to the accounts of the participants, these three men," here he gestured to a corpse just beyond him and two other living men, "were out here in the field together earlier, before the clouds broke. I find that very odd, for most people would seek shelter indoors when the sky is filled with dark storm clouds as it was earlier today. But that is not the most puzzling aspect of the case. The dead man, Calder Nettic, was shot in the back with a blaster rifle. A rifle was found lying near his body with blood stains on it. It has been sent back to the Enclave for analysis. Two other men were found at the scene when I arrived. One was Handon Guld. He was unarmed. The other was Rickard Lusoff, who was carrying a hunting laser. Both men say they did not do anything, and that they came across the body. But both men also accuse the other. Obviously there is more to this than what we have been told."

"And you're stumped and want me to figure it out for you. You reckon I can, because you've heard of my reputation," Aithne said flatly. Bolook stiffened. Aithne rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, I won't tell the Masters. I wouldn't wish a Council lecture on anyone, even someone that got in my way and decided to waste my time bullying me into solving a problem for them." She faked a cheery smile at him and saluted sarcastically. "Aithne Morrigan, reporting for duty. Carth, Canderous? Do you mind investigating for a while?"

"Still more than we've been doing for the past month," Carth shrugged.

Canderous grunted noncommittally. Aithne took it for acquiescence and turned back to Bolook. The Jedi was trying not to scowl at her. She smiled even more brightly. If he wanted her to do his homework, he deserved every annoyance she gave him. "Anything else I should know?"

Bolook hesitated. Aithne could tell he halfway wanted to see her fail now; she'd made him rather angry. But he looked at the dead body and his better instincts won out. "There is one last thing," he admitted. "When I arrived, Handon was holding his side, and Rickard was favoring one of his legs. Remember that. I sense it will be important as we progress through the case."

He was trying to save face. "Can it," Aithne told him tersely.

"If there is anything else you need, I will remain here while you question the witnesses," Bolook said, with as much dignity as he could muster, under the circumstances.

Aithne walked over to one of the men to begin the questioning.

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><p><strong>AN: Ah, this takes me back. My very first post on fanfiction ended here. I opened my account and published the first thirteen chapters of **_**Edge of Light and Dark**_** (in its entirety it's over 600 pages and 46 chapters long- it deserves the italics) the first night, without much revision or any staggering. It wasn't a serial; it was almost a novel in itself. I've learned a bit since then. By the time I post this I'll have revised at least five chapters ahead. Someone voted for both the trial and the Matale-Sandral feud. So I'm going to post them both. Enjoy! (And even if you don't, leave a review telling me what to improve)**

**May the Force be With You,**

**LMSharp**


	14. Double Trial

**Disclaimer: Don't own KotOR, Don't own Star Wars, and only have a small share in Aithne Morrigan. I'm so depressed.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Fourteen<p>

The first suspect Aithne walked up to was a surly man who identified himself as Rickard Lusoff. He seemed bored, and more than a little annoyed. He could see, as clearly as did Aithne herself, how Bolook was fumbling for a solution. When Aithne asked him about the crime, his answer was short and to the point.

"I was out hunting iriaz," he said, "when I spotted one over here by the bridge. I pull out my rifle and aim at it. I couldn't see it that well, mind you, 'cause the damn sun was in my eyes. So I shoot it, and it drops. I walk over here and find Handon standing over Calder's body! So why don't you get this whole farce over with and send that whiner Handon to the prison he belongs in!"

Aithne pinned him with a stare, and was gratified to see him shift slightly. "Mr. Lusoff," she said quietly, "You will kindly keep your ridicule and your profanity to yourself. You will leave when I have determined you to be innocent and not before. I will return directly."

As she turned, she distinctly heard Rickard mumble several derogatory comments in her direction. She ignored it for the moment. She'd already identified at least one flaw in his story. Now she'd hear Handon's.

Handon was much more polite, and also much more nervous, than Rickard. He identified himself, and was very flattering. But Handon Guld was also sweating like a pig, and every now and then his hand moved to touch his side. He looked from side to side. Aithne zeroed in on him. He knew something.

But he wasn't telling. "I am sure that you'll agree that Rickard is quite obviously guilty of murder," he said. "You see, I was out here running earlier today-yes, running," he clarified, as if he expected her to disagree. "I do that a lot. Can't stand speeders. Never use them. Keeps me in shape, too, you know! Anyway I was out running on the other side of that bridge there when all of a sudden I heard a shot coming from over here. I ran over here and found this man Calder lying on the ground, dead!"

"Ok. What happened next?"

"I saw Rickard come skulking out of the shadows of the rocks south of the river, and I knew something was wrong. I hit my emergency button and called the Enclave right away. Well…there," Handon finished, rather awkwardly. "That's my story. Now please, hurry this up and arrest Rickard so I can get on with my day."

"At least you said please," conceded Aithne. "But no, Mr. Guld. I don't think I'll let you go just yet. I'll talk to you in a minute."

She went and questioned the information droid, and received some intelligence that gave her much to think over. Apparently, the plains were a very dangerous place to visit any day, and to run about them as Handon had allegedly been doing without a weapon was tantamount to suicide. In addition, Bolook had also told her that at the time of the murder, before Aithne herself had left the Enclave, it had been a very rainy morning. Aithne suspected both men had not been completely honest. The question now, was why. She went to Bolook with what she'd gathered so far.

"Let's go over everything," she said wearily.

"Very well," Bolook said self-importantly, thinking that she'd run into difficulty. "We should start at the beginning. If we find the truth behind each piece of the puzzle, we will no doubt resolve the case. Handon said that he was nearby and heard a shot and ran over, only to find Calder already dead. He said Rickard came out of the shadows of the rocks holding a blaster in his hands. Rickard said that he was hunting iriaz, saw one through the glare of the sun and shot at it. It is possible that Rickard may have shot Calder accidentally and Handon may have found the body, but that seems a very unlikely explanation. It is more likely that at least one of them is lying. Obviously one of these men is not telling us something, but where does the truth lie?"

"Shut up. Even you aren't stupid enough not to know that Rickard's lying," Aithne growled in exasperation. "There was no sun to blind Rickard this morning."

Bolook smiled in that annoying way the Masters had whenever they thought she'd done something particularly clever. "Yes, well done! It was very cloudy this morning. If it had happened as Rickard said, the sun would not have been visible at the time of the killing. You seem to have caught Rickard in a bit of a lie. It seems I was correct in assuming you could help me with this case. This lie does not prove Rickard guilty, but I think you have taken the first steps in unraveling this mystery. We should proceed on to the next point."

"Spare me your lectures," Aithne said, holding up a hand. With his way of manipulating people and his long-winded speeches, Aithne suspected Bolook might be headed far in the Jedi Order. "Motive. I'll get on it."

And so speaking, Aithne wheeled around. She shot Carth and Canderous an apologetic glance. The two men, standing unobtrusively at the edge of the group, merely shrugged. Aithne walked up to Handon.

"So this man, Calder," she said. "Did you know him?"

Handon shrugged. "I knew him a little bit, but I wasn't any sort of great friend to him or anything. I never really associated with him that much." His brows contracted. "In truth, I didn't really want to. He had a…reputation. Very inconsiderate of family, I heard." He looked up, and his eyebrows flew up again. "But, merely having heard unkind things about someone wouldn't make me want to kill him!"

Aithne was surprised by his adamant declaration. She studied Handon's face. He looked even more nervous than before. "No one said you killed him…."she said slowly, "yet."

"I'm sorry," Handon laughed. "I'm…I'm getting a bit agitated. Why must we remain here? Can't…can't you see that Rickard must have shot him?"

"Why would anyone want to shoot him?" replied Aithne coolly.

Handon looked even more uncomfortable. "Um…you see, Calder was involved in some pretty sordid business from time to time." He seemed to relax a bit. "More often than not, I've heard. Disreputable business practices, even more disreputable clients. I've even heard he had dealings with a Hutt! A Hutt here on Dantooine! Now I bet you're wondering if I had any reasons to kill the man," Handon said hastily, "but I tell you, I hardly knew him! Saw him once or twice, yes, and I have heard some pretty unkind things about him, but certainly nothing that would make me want to kill him!"

"Then why were you out here this morning, unarmed, in the storm?" asked Aithne quickly, holding Handon with her gaze. He squirmed like a worm on a hook, holding his side.

"I was out taking my daily constitutional," he said firmly. "I heard a shot, ran over, and found Calder's body lying there."

"That's your story and you're sticking to it," murmured Aithne. "Fine. You're holding your side," she observed, switching tactics. "Are you injured?"

Handon suddenly paled. "I…injured?" He forced a laugh, removing his hand hurriedly. "No, of course not! Why would I have been? Fit as a bantha!" He laughed again, a high, strained sound that made Aithne positive that he was, in fact, injured, and that the injury had something to do with the murder she was here to solve. "I run…" Handon said awkwardly. "I don't know if I mentioned that."

"Only about three times," Aithne murmured. "That's all for now, Mr. Guld. I'll be back soon."

Crossing over a few feet, Aithne stood before Rickard once more. "Ok, Mr. Lusoff. How about you? Did you know Calder?"

Rickard shrugged. "Yeah, I knew him. Hell, we've known each other for a good long time. Doesn't mean I really have to have liked the slime-ball." He sighed, seeming to realize the harshness of his words. "Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on him…especially now that he's dead. We actually got along pretty well most of the time. We just had our…differences. We were actually business partners. We were involved in some orbit to ground transport operations for Aratech. Can I leave now? I should probably be the one to give the news to his wife."

"Not just yet, Mr. Lusoff," Aithne replied, with some force. "Tell me why someone would want to kill him."

Rickard threw up his hands in disgust and exasperation. "You Jedi are so predictable," he sneered. "Always seeing some greater purpose behind everything, when the simple answer is usually the right one. Can't you see that it must have been Handon? I found him standing over the damned body! I don't know why this is causing you so much trouble. You almost seem as lost as this Bolook guy!"

Aithne looked at him coldly. "I'm with it enough to know that you're avoiding the question, Lusoff. And to know that you've lied once already. Trust me, I'm _not_ lost."

For a moment, Rickard actually looked nervous. Aithne smiled brightly. "Now, on another note, Bolook said you were limping earlier. Are you injured?"

Rickard looked at her in genuine surprise. "Well…uh…I kind of sprained my ankle running through the bush before I found the body, but it's nothing that serious." Aithne looked at him for a moment, and judged him to be telling the truth.

"That's all for now. I'll be back in a moment."

Aithne again turned to check the suspects' stories with the Information Droid. She learned even more interesting information. The droid revealed that Handon had no such dislike of speeders as he had claimed. Apparently, over the last month or so, he had been renting a speeder with the very Calder Nettic that now lay bloodied and dead on the ground a few feet away. Aithne also discovered the true extent of Rickard's 'differences' with Calder. According to the Enclave records, the two men had been in a drunken fight the week before, and Rickard had loudly accused Calder of cheating him in a business deal. This was news indeed. It revealed that Rickard had a definite motive for wishing Calder dead, and that Handon knew Calder far better than he had admitted.

So thinking, Aithne returned to Bolook.

"Ok, so I've discovered some interesting things about Handon and Rickard."

"Very well," said Bolook. "Let us go over it again. We know Rickard lied about the sun blinding him while he was shooting but we need more to go on. Let's examine the relationship of each man with the victim. Handon told me he barely knew the victim. On the other hand, Rickard and the victim were business partners. On the surface, neither man seems to have a motive for killing Calder."

"And that's what's got you puzzled, right?" Aithne grinned a bit, reveling in her better success. "I checked the Dantooine records. They're _both_ lying. Handon rented a speeder with Calder, but I haven't ascertained why yet. However, I did discover that Rickard and Calder had a fight over business matters."

Bolook nodded thoughtfully. "It is not unusual for business partners to disagree sometimes, but if Rickard found proof Calder was cheating him things could escalate to violence, and that certainly is a motive for murder. The case is taking shape; however, you mustn't jump to any quick conclusions."

"I'm not, Bolook. I don't know much about Handon, but he's been really nervous. I have more evidence for Rickard as the killer, but I'm more inclined to suspect Handon. I'm going to go ask about that blaster found at the scene of the crime, and ask Handon about that speeder rental. Check with you later, Bolook."

Bolook nodded gravely. "Very well."

Aithne turned to Handon directly. Putting on her most charming smile, she walked up and said sweetly, "Hey, Handon. The information droid there told me something interesting. He said he found records that you've been renting one of those infernal speeders with Calder. You wouldn't have anything to say about that, would you?"

Handon blanched. Holding up his hands, he said hastily, "But I…I realize this must seem like a motive to you, but I assure you it isn't. I dislike Calder, true. I would punch his face in," he said, brow contracting and lip curling, "given the opportunity, but I would not kill him!"

"I'm very curious as to what motive you might have for wanting to punch his face in," replied Aithne. Handon flinched at the word motive, but he answered.

"My…wife was cheating on me with him," he confessed. "They slept in my own bed while I was in the next room! But…as much as I may hate him for that, I could not kill him. It may have been my own fault for driving my wife away," he mused. "I must not try to take the law in my own hands. I was just out running, trying to clear my head for the divorce proceedings, not stalking him to kill him!" he protested. "Running is not a crime!"

Aithne looked at him skeptically. "Ok. We'll accept that. For now. What do you know about the weapon found by the body?"

Handon paled again. "That blaster was stolen from my house last week!" he cried. "I never knew what happened to it. I hardly have enough money to afford a single blaster, let alone another. I can't tell you how important it is to have a weapon on hand with all these ravenous kath hounds around. Even an iriaz can take a man down if it gets in the mood. Every settler has a weapon. It's our most prized possession. I would most appreciate it if I could have that back after you determine that Rickard is the killer."

"Ok, I'll be back later, Mr. Guld," Aithne said, turning away.

_If the plains are so dangerous and weapons are so valuable, then why was Handon out without a weapon? _Aithne thought. Her eyes shot to the hunting laser Rickard carried, and on a hunch, she jogged up to the information droid.

"Is there a report of Handon's blaster rifle being stolen?" she asked.

After a few moments the droid replied, "I am sorry, but I seem to be failing you. I have searched and searched, but I cannot seem to come up with anything at all. I thought to find the record of the missing weapon report Mr. Guld filed with the authorities, but there does not seem to be one."

The droid seemed to be genuinely distressed. "It's alright. You've been a big help. I'll be back later," she said kindly.

Wheeling around, she faced Bolook once more. "Got more for you, Bolook,"

"So what have you determined about the weapon found by the body?" he asked, a little too eagerly. Aithne just barely refrained from shaking her head.

"Check it out. The blaster's Handon's, but he lied about it being stolen."

Bolook looked troubled, and his lekku twitched uncertainly. "So we have caught Handon in a lie. Interesting, but I think we may need one final piece of the puzzle. There was a blood sample on the weapon that had been sent back for analysis just before you arrived. Perhaps you could inquire with the information droid about it."

"Will do," said Aithne, almost eager herself. She felt the case was about to crack wide open, one way or another. She flashed a smile at Carth and Canderous.

"Guys, I think we'll be out of here soon," she called.

"Good," called Canderous, "I'm getting bored."

Aithne grinned a little. "Just 'cause the guy's already been shot," she called back teasingly. Carth laughed. Canderous scowled.

She turned to the information droid. "What can you tell me about the blood sample we sent off to be analyzed?" she asked.

"I have just received the analysis back," the droid reported. "The blood on the weapon is definitely not Calder's. Unfortunately, there was a chemical contaminant in the sample that had been taken back to the laboratory, and it had become degraded. We cannot get any more specific analysis from that sample than the fact that it did not belong to Calder."

Aithne did some hard, fast thinking. _Not Calder's? Then who…_ Her eyes darted suddenly to Handon, clutching his side now that he thought no one was watching, and then to Rickard's laser. _Of course!_

"Thank you," she told the droid gratefully, "I think you just solved the case for me."

She nearly ran back over to Bolook. "Thank me now, Jedi Bolook. I've just solved your case."

"And what have you learned, apprentice?" Bolook said in tones of barely repressed excitement.

"The blood on the blaster found at the scene of the crime- which, by the way, belongs to Handon Guld and is in fact the murder weapon- is likewise Handon Guld's own."

"And what assurance do you have of that?" Bolook asked gravely.

"Not only did the droid report that the blood sample proved the blood not to be Calder's, but Handon's been clutching his side all morning whenever when he thinks we're not looking."

"Hmmm…" Bolook said, striding over to Handon. "Handon has been moving oddly since I arrived. Perhaps we should examine him more closely."

Bolook moved to check Handon's side, and Handon moved away rather violently.

"Hey! What are you doing?" But Handon suddenly found his shoulder gripped rather firmly by Carth Onasi, who had moved up to assist Bolook. Bolook lifted Handon's tunic slightly, then let it fall.

"There is blood!" he called. "Handon appears to have suffered some sort of blaster wound to the side. It seems there is one likely scenario: Rickard killed Calder for cheating him in business. While shooting Calder, he must have also hit Handon by accident."

While Bolook was speaking, Canderous had moved up to stand behind Rickard, grinning evilly and stroking his giant repeating blaster.

Aithne smiled. "Try again, Bolook. _Handon_ shot Calder because his wife was cheating on him with Calder. Rickard _attempted _to shoot Calder for cheating him, but hit Handon instead, with his _hunting laser_. I think you'll find the wound patterns are quite different on Handon than they are on Calder; the hunting laser is a very different weapon than a blaster. Anyway, Handon was wounded, and he dropped his blaster. Handon called the Enclave, and here we are. Handon is guilty of murdering Calder Nettic, and Rickard Lusoff is guilty of attempting to. And also of miserable aim." She shook her head at Rickard. "Seriously, not only is Handon hardly grazed, he's also entirely the wrong mark. What, you didn't even care to check you were shooting the right guy? You could have gone to trial for killing a man you had nothing against!"

"Damn you!" Rickard growled, as Bolook handed Carth and Canderous cuffs and the two criminals were locked up.

"Well done, Aithne Morrigan," breathed Bolook in relief. "Mr. Lusoff, Mr. Guld, I place you both under the arrest of the Jedi Order, and will escort you to holding facilities in the Jedi Enclave. Apprentice, I will be sure to inform the Jedi Council of your performance in this little test."

"Test." Aithne said, smiling in spite of herself as Bolook started to lead the prisoners off with the Force. "Right."

"You did good." Carth said admiringly. "You might just make a proper Jedi yet, who knows?"

"By the Force, Onasi, don't wish me such an evil!" Aithne cried out, grinning in the light of his approval.

"Good day," said Bolook, attempting to restrain his own smile. Apparently, in the light of the successful conclusion of the investigation, all insults had been forgotten. "And may the Force be with you."

"Well that was fun," Aithne remarked after the Jedi and his prisoners had left. "Shall we try to cleanse the grove now?"

"Finally," Canderous growled. "I've been itching for some action."

"We've been quiet for forty-five minutes solving a murder," Aithne said to the heavens, "and already the Mandalorian wishes we'd been out committing murders ourselves. May the Force be with me, indeed." But she smiled at Canderous, and the three set out once again.

There was perhaps one more skirmish with kath hounds as Aithne followed the trail of the corruption in the grove, and there was one serious spat with some of the Mandalorians currently plaguing Dantooine. As Aithne cured her and her companion's wounds with the Force, looking down in disgust at the bodies of the armored cowards before her, she felt the corruption, closer than ever.

"Just a few yards to our left, I think," she said, as the sun started to sink beneath the horizon. Passing between a few hills, she saw an old ruined pavilion, and a few Mandalorian bodies.

"That's the place?" Carth guessed.

Aithne felt the darkness reaching out, seductive and powerful. "That's it," she said, almost embracing the dark, like an old friend…

Aithne shook herself. The Dark Side! No, the Sith were even bigger idiots than the Jedi, with the same ridiculous ideals, only warped into something evil. Striding forward, she walked to confront the source of this disturbance.

"I will be your doom!"

A voice cried out into the dusk, and Aithne ignited her lightsaber. A Cathar woman leapt out at her, a red lightsaber swinging at her throat. Aithne felt Carth and Canderous freeze behind her, put into Force Stasis, helpless while she was attacked. She ducked, all her senses burning as she fought the Cathar woman.

The Sith woman was young- much taller than Aithne herself, and Aithne was no dwarf. She put force behind every stroke of her lightsaber, the force of anger, and Aithne realized, the force of fear. Calmly, Aithne parried her stroke for stroke, and gradually, she gained ground. They fought for maybe fifteen minutes together, but Aithne could see that the strain of keeping Carth and Canderous in stasis was taking its toll on the Cathar Sith. Her face was losing its color, and finally, with a flick of her wrist, Aithne disarmed the woman, and held her lightsaber leveled at the woman's face, it's green light illuminating the orange and yellow features, and the glowing golden eyes of the Sith woman in the growing darkness. The woman fell to her knees, panting, and released Carth and Canderous.

The two men ran up angrily to flank Aithne, and Canderous was about to pull the trigger of his gun when Aithne held up a hand. Canderous lowered the gun reluctantly.

"You, you are strong," panted the Sith woman in a voice musical, and faintly accented. "Stronger than me, even in my darkness."

Aithne kept her lightsaber burning, but lowered it slightly. "Who are you?" she asked clearly, her voice still angry with the fight.

"I am Juhani," answered the Cathar, "and this is my grove. This is the place of my dark power. This is the place you have invaded. When I embraced the Dark Side, this is where I sought my solace. It is MINE!"

That was interesting. Aithne lowered her lightsaber still more. "You say you embraced the Dark Side? Why, then, did you seek your solace?" she demanded.

The Sith woman answered. "When I slew my Master, Quatra, I knew I could never go back. And now I revel in my dark power! Power to crush the life from one such as you! Or, so I had thought." She cast her eyes down, perhaps waiting for Aithne's mortal blow.

Aithne, however, deactivated her lightsaber. Juhani looked up, startled. "Dark Side, Light Side, it's all just power," she said. "Flip sides of a coin. Still the same stuff. The Dark Side is no more powerful than the Light."

Juhani sighed. "What is it you want? Why do you bother me?" Her voice ached with raw pain, and Aithne's heart went out to her. Feigning carelessness, Aithne plopped down on the stones opposite the Cathar woman. In truth, she was ready for action should the Sith decide to attack again, but she wished to convey an impression of friendship, that she expected no attack, and didn't fear it if it came. The first twinkling star appeared in the sky.

"Let's be honest, Juhani," she said. "You're not hurting anyone but yourself with all this nonsense about reveling in your dark power. You're unhappy. Would you like to talk?"

The Cathar woman looked at her incredulously, completely taken off guard. "Talk?" she cried. "You who have beaten me so easily just want to talk?" She turned away, blinking back a tear. "I do not believe it. Kill me now, while you still have the power."

"If I had the power just now, I'll have it after we talk," Aithne said impassively. Not arrogantly. They both knew it was the truth. "I'm not sure if you need to be killed. I'm not a Sith, Juhani. I don't have to kill you to prove my superiority. You seem upset, and I'd like to help."

"I do not know how you managed to beat me with that mindset," Juhani said bitterly. "No- I know. I am pathetic. I sit here and think myself to be great by embracing the Dark Side, but I am nothing! There is no way I could be turned back!" She spat the words out in despair, but it was also a challenge. "I always thought they held me back, were jealous of my power. But it is only because I was not good enough to meet their standards. I never have been." She finished more calmly, but the words contained such anguish that they broke Aithne's heart.

"Trust me, Juhani," she said. "No one is good enough to meet the Jedi standards. Even Master Vrook on the Council has some serious anger issues. Maybe now, though, now that you know you are ignorant, you're a little better off, huh?"

Juhani stared off into the distance. Aithne felt Carth and Canderous both staring at her: Carth in awe, Canderous in confusion, but she continued to focus on Juhani.

"I seem to have much to learn," Juhani said presently. "Both about being a Jedi, and about myself. But I wish the cost of my ignorance had not been so high. I wish that my Master had not suffered because of me."

"One thing I do know," replied Aithne, "is that even in death, the Force will allow her to live on."

"If she were alive now," said Juhani, turning to Aithne, "there would be so much I would say to her…so much I would apologize for. I think, in my own way, I truly loved her…Oh, how can the Council take me back after what I have done? Striking my Master down in anger is unforgivable!"

Aithne's face hardened. "Don't flatter yourself," she said harshly. "No one is beyond redemption and forgiveness. As for your anger," she said, in a softened tone, "You might want to work on that. Try meditating," she advised, remembering the sessions she'd had with Bastila. "It works for me."

"If I show them I am free of passion," said Juhani, talking mostly to herself now, "that I am serene…That I am willing to forsake the Dark Side…Maybe, just maybe, they would take me back. Do you think they would?" she asked suddenly, turning to Aithne desperately, "Could it be possible after what I have done?"

Aithne shrugged, beginning to rise. "First of all, they can't afford not to. Juhani, I'm an apprentice- a twenty-eight year old apprentice they trained because they're so short on warriors to fight Malak. And you look like a warrior. Second," she broke off, and studied Juhani's face for a long moment. "Yes. I really do sense your remorse and repentance. They'll take you back."

Juhani rose as well, offering her hand. Aithne shook it. "I thank you, master Jedi," Juhani said. "I will return to the Council, then. I shall submit myself to their judgment, and hope that they will forgive me. If only there was some way I could make this up to you…Again, I thank you. I am sure I will hear great things about you in the future."

"My name is Aithne Morrigan," Aithne said. "Look me up when we both get back to the Enclave. May the Force be with you."

Juhani nodded, and smiled shyly. Then, she turned and activated her Force speed, and within seconds she was beyond Aithne's sight.

"You know what?" remarked Aithne to her companions. "I like her. I really do. I hope the Council is good to her."

"That woman is a murderess," Carth pointed out.

"She's also a Cathar," replied Canderous. "She's a fighter through and through. She probably didn't kill her master in cold blood."

"That's true," conceded Carth.

"Shall we head back to the Enclave?" Aithne asked.

"Sure," Carth said. "It is getting late."

They started walking back, and by and by, Canderous spoke up. "I don't understand you, Morrigan," he growled. "You could have crushed that Cathar easily. Why didn't you?"

"Because Aithne's not a bloodthirsty killing-machine," Carth said sharply, but Aithne held up a hand.

"Leave him alone, Carth, it's a fair question. The woman killed her master in a fit of bad temper. She presented a valid- a more than valid threat to the Jedi here on Dantooine. And yes, Canderous, I could've killed her easily. But really, what's more honorable? Making an easy kill on the Dantooine plain or sending back into battle a stronger, wiser, better warrior for the Jedi to fight the people that blew up Taris and Telos and are tyrannizing the galaxy. She won't forget the lesson she's learned. She'll be a living tribute to me and to the Jedi. If she died, she'd just be dead. And what use is that to anyone? Just a mess to clean up or a meal for these pestilential kath hounds." She shrugged. "Where are they, anyway?"

"They're not nocturnal," Canderous said tersely. He looked thoughtful, but didn't answer Aithne's points further than that. Aithne, Carth, and Canderous reached the Enclave without further difficulty.

Aithne yawned as they stood in the shadow of the _Ebon Hawk_. Bed sounded brilliant, but- "I really ought to report to Master Zhar," she told Carth and Canderous. Just then, Mission came out of the ship.

"Aithne! Hi!"

"Hi Mission," Aithne said.

"How did things go today?"

"I was about to head to the Enclave to find out, actually." The teenager's eyes lit up. "Would you like to come with?"

"Just try and stop me!" Mission declared. Canderous muttered something about tinkering with his double vibroblade, and left them. Aithne chuckled. Canderous found Mission's vibrancy a little taxing, to say the least. Aithne gave Mission a little hug, and she, Mission, and Carth started to head towards the training room within the Enclave.

As they passed the Council Chamber, however, Juhani emerged, smiling a little. She activated her lightsaber, and a clear blue blade slid out with a hiss. A Guardian. A warrior. Aithne could have guessed. Juhani deactivated it, and looked up.

"Oh, Aithne Morrigan, greetings! I must give you my thanks. Because of you, I am once again welcome within the Jedi Order."

"Hello, Juhani. Juhani, meet Mission. And this guy here you've seen, but his name is Carth. Mission, this is Juhani. You spoke with the Council then?"

"I have spoken with the Council," smiled Juhani, nearly glowing in her happiness, "and they have helped me see the truth. The truth about myself, and the truth of my actions. Quatra's injuries were not so severe as I first believed. I was foolish to believe I could harm a Master such as she with my…my clumsy efforts. The fierce confrontation between us was nothing more than a part of my training. Quatra wanted me to understand the threat of the Dark Side, to see how easy it was to fall from the path of the light."

"She took a big risk there," remarked Aithne, frowning. "You're no pushover. Where's Quatra now?"

"After our last battle, Quatra had nothing left to teach me. I needed time alone to explore the turmoil of my own spirit. Only then was I ready to follow a guide-you-back to the light. When I left, Quatra knew her work with me was done. There are other disciples who need training throughout the galaxy, and she could not stay to see if I passed this most difficult trial. With your help, I have passed. The Council now feels I am ready to continue on to the next stage of my training, though they have asked me to wait here for the time being."

Aithne looked at Juhani once more, and noticed that she was now wearing the robes of a Jedi Knight- Guardian class. "Hey, you made Knight! Congratulations!"

"Yes," Juhani assented, looking down in her embarrassment. "Thank you."

"Hey," said Mission, "I'm glad to see you're not getting hung up on all this. The past is in the past, you know?"

Aithne looked at Mission. "I'm glad Juhani's moving forward, too, Mish. But I'm more glad that you think the past is in the past."

Mission's face grew sober for a minute, recognizing both the reference to her brother and to Taris, but then she looked up at Aithne, and nodded.

"First the Jedi trick you into becoming an enemy," Carth said, not by any means as satisfied with the situation. "And then they welcome you back as a friend. I can't say I approve of their training methods."

Aithne frowned. Neither could she, to be honest. But she smiled at Juhani and wished her well, and taking her leave, she passed into the training chamber.

Master Zhar was sitting cross legged on the floor, meditating. As she entered, the Twi'lek arose, smiling at her. "You have done well, Aithne. The ancient grove has been purified, and Juhani's journey down the dark path has been halted. Because of you she walks once more in the light. But though she was saved, do not dismiss what happened to her. Juhani is both dedicated and true to the ideals of the Order, yet she was still vulnerable to the Dark Side. As are we all. She struck her Master in anger during training and injured her greatly. But it was Quatra's choice to test Juhani this way, and it seems to have made its point. Juhani has been redeemed, and you have passed your final test. Congratulations, apprentice. Or should I say, Congratulations, Padawan? You have proven yourself worthy of joining the Jedi. Let me be the first to welcome you as a full-fledged member of the Order!"

And despite herself, Aithne was a Jedi, just like that. She couldn't say she liked it, but she respected the dignity and honor of the situation, all the same. She bowed, accepting the soft robes of a Padawan that Zhar now handed her.

"Go now, return to your ship with your crew. But in the morning, you must return here to the Council immediately. The Council has an assignment for you and Padawan Bastila."

Aithne nodded, and turning silently, she left the Enclave with Mission and Carth. She said not a word from the minute she left Master Zhar to the minute she slid into bed after a very late supper. And even as she slept she wondered what assignment the Council could have for her and Bastila, and how it would impact her future.


	15. The Intergalactic Scavenger Hunt

**Disclaimer: No, I don't own KotOR. No I don't own the characters.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Fifteen<p>

The next morning, Aithne awoke bright and early. She dressed quickly, plaited and pinned her hair into submission as best she could, and made her way to the breakfast table. She could always count on finding Mission and Zaalbar there right around the time she ate every morning, and usually Carth. Sometimes Bastila joined them for the morning meal, but more often she preferred to spend it in seclusion, meditating and preparing her mind for the day's trials. Canderous ate alone.

This morning Carth had shown up, and though Bastila had already eaten and meditated, she sat at the table with them.

"Try and hurry, Aithne," she told the same severely. "You remember we have been ordered to the Council for assignment."

"Of course I remember," Aithne said. "Relax. I'm almost done." She surveyed the last few slices of a citrus-y fruit they grew further south on Dantooine. "You think they'd let us bring help? Just- I know everyone around here's been bored to tears lately."

"Hear, hear!" Mission piped up, grinning cheekily.

"I don't know," Bastila said, glaring at Mission.

"It might be nice if one of us could go to keep informed of the situation," Carth said, a little too casually. Aithne looked at him.

"Carth, would you like to come along with me and Bastila?" she asked.

"I might, at that," he said.

"Oh, don't even ask me," Mission said in mock-annoyance. But she shrugged. "It's fine. Me and Big Z will probably bother Canderous later and go out shooting kath hounds and saving settlers." She smiled. "He says he's just doing it for the glory of the hunt and all that, but I don't buy it. I think he enjoys the 'honor' the settlers give him or whatever."

"Just be careful," Carth said. "Some of those kath hounds are tough. Take a shield," Mission was beginning to scowl, so he redirected his gaze to include Zaalbar. "Both of you." Zaalbar let out an amused growl of assent, and Mission looked mollified.

Aithne looked at her fruit rind, and standing, tossed it in the compacter. "Arm yourself," Bastila instructed her. "You do not know what the Council has in store."

Carth was cleaning up his own breakfast. "Gotcha," he said.

And before too long the three of them were on their way to the Council.

The Council were talking earnestly amongst themselves when they first walked in, but the moment they sensed Aithne's presence (and before she could hear a word they'd said), they ceased to talk and looked up at her.

Vandar greeted her. "It is good to see Juhani has returned to the way of the light. You are to be commended for your role in this. Your actions give us great hope for the future. Your training is now complete, young Padawan, and perhaps now it is time we dealt with the matter of the dream you and Bastila shared."

"It'd be nice if you could call me in just to say hello and thank you," Aithne remarked with resignation. "Very well. Shoot."

"When we heard of the ruins in your dreams," continued Master Vandar, after Zhar had had his chuckle and Vrook had glared himself into contentment, "Master Dorak recognized it as one of a series of ancient structures here on Dantooine. This one in particular lies to the east of the Enclave. We sent a Jedi to investigate…but he has not returned. Perhaps sending him in the first place was a mistake," mused Vandar sadly. "The Force is guiding your visions; it may be that exploring the ruins is a task tied to your destiny. That is why the Council has decided you should be the one to investigate this. The secrets to stopping Malak may be hidden in those ruins. You must investigate them and find what Revan and Malak were looking for."

The prospect excited Aithne a good deal, but she kept her voice detached as she replied, "Sure. Sounds amusing, at least. I'll do it."

"Be sure to bring Bastila with you," urged Master Vandar. "There is a powerful link between you, and you will need to draw strength from each other during the trials ahead."

"Well you did say it was our assignment last night…" Aithne began before his words fully registered. "Wait. Trials? As in more than one?"

But she was not destined to be answered. Outside the doors to the Council Chamber, she heard a young male Jedi cry out, "Please sir, you really mustn't…"

And then the doors burst open and a very angry looking man of forty-five or fifty burst in.

"I demand justice!" he cried out. "The Sandral family is a blight upon Dantooine! They must be punished!"

Master Vandar held up a wrinkled green hand. "The Council will look into this matter, Mr. Matale. You must be patient. Your accusations have no proof, and we do not want you stirring up trouble with the Sandrals if there is some mistake." His tone was gentle as always, but the man, Mr. Matale, puffed up like a toad with self-righteous indignation.

"Mistake?" he scoffed. "My son Shen is missing! How can there be any doubt the Sandrals are to blame?"

Master Vrook shook his head. "There are other possible explanations for your son's disappearance," he said, in a gentler tone than he ever used with Aithne. Go figure, Aithne thought, not without some bitterness.

"Bah!" said Matale in disgust. "You Jedi are good for nothing but talk! I shall only wait so long before I take action on my own!"

And with that dramatic threat, Mr. Matale exited the Council Chamber with as much flourish and indignation as when he'd entered.

As he left, Vandar sighed. "As dangerous as the threat from Darth Malak and the Sith may be, we Jedi cannot simply abandon our other responsibilities. The Council has promised Ahlan Matale we will look into his son's disappearance. Should you have time, Padawan Aithne, you may want to investigate this matter."

"I don't know," stalled Aithne. "Is Shen Matale more polite than his father?" The entire Council, and Bastila gave her scandalized looks. "Never mind! Never mind!" Aithne cried. "I'll do it!"

"If Shen Matale is not returned to his father," stated Vrook in portentous tones, "it may ignite a savage and bloody feud between the Matale and Sandral estates. We must not allow that to happen. Your study and training are important, of course, but the Jedi are not a cloistered Order. Our influence and teachings must spread beyond the walls of our Academies. It is in the real world that we truly prove ourselves worthy of the title Jedi. You would do well to remember this, young Padawan," he finished, shooting Aithne one of the poisonous glares she was beginning to associate him with.

"Not to mention that I wouldn't mind getting out of this Enclave for a bit. I mean, c'mon, how bad could it be?" put in Carth.

"Alright," said Aithne, pulling her pack over her shoulder. She was glad Bastila had reminded her to come prepared. Carth and Bastila did the same. "Carth, Bastila, let's go play Jedi archaeologist!"

Before they'd gotten too far, Aithne remembered that she wanted to actually know more about the dream she'd had about Revan. She was not satisfied with the explanations the Council had given her, and Bastila had at least proved to _want_ to tell her more. So, as they walked out of the Enclave, Aithne turned to Bastila and asked her if they could talk about the dream.

"It was less of a dream and more of a vision…"Bastila qualified, "a vision the two of us shared. But I am certainly willing to answer any questions the Council did not."

Aithne seized upon this. "Hmmm….Really?" she demanded. Bastila looked mildly panicked, and Aithne sighed. "No, never mind, let it pass. Right now I want to know why we shared this 'vision'." _And if you saw it from Revan's eyes, _she added silently, but she dared not ask. The Jedi attributed so much to this dream. If Bastila had not seen the dream from Revan's perspective, she would freak out if Aithne told her that she had.

"Are you wondering why we shared the vision?" asked Bastila, recovering, "Or why we even received it in the first place? To the first, I can only repeat the answer that the Council told us. Our fates are linked, and for two as strong as we are in the Force that amounts to a near physical bond." Her face grew grave as she continued. "As to the second, I don't truly have an answer for you. The Force works as it will, and perhaps we should be grateful for what we have been given."

"Revert to first line of thought, please, and freeze," Aithne requested. "How did our fates, or whatever, become linked in the first place?"

Bastila averted her eyes. "I…I don't know," she said after a minute, in a slightly hollow tone. Aithne didn't really need to reach out with the Force to know that Bastila was very uncomfortable, and that if she didn't actually knew, she guessed at how they were bonded. Aithne pursed her lips, but said nothing, as Bastila continued. "Believe me, I certainly don't find the prospect of being joined to you to be enjoyable in any fashion."

Aithne gaped. After a moment, she recollected herself. Angrily, she retorted, "Well same to you, Princess!"

Bastila smiled, and extended a hand to Aithne in apology. "Please forgive me. I did not mean to imply that you were repulsive in any sense of the word. That we shared something so personal is just not something I'm used to."

"Ok, Bastila. I'll forgive you," replied Aithne. "Today. So why do you think we dreamed of Revan and Malak?"

"Perhaps because we desired to," offered Bastila, "Perhaps because they came to this planet and were strong enough in the Force to leave a…a trace." But she looked away again, and Aithne knew there was more to that story, as well.

"Isn't it a bit convenient to dream about our enemies?" Aithne prompted, hoping Bastila would see fit to trust her. Her hopes proved in vain.

Bastila's eyes flashed in annoyance. "What else should we dream about except that which is most important to our fate?" she asked irritably. "We dreamed about Revan and Malak either because we were meant to or because we needed to. There is no other way to look at it."

_Oh, but there's always another way to look at it, _thought Aithne, unsatisfied. "Well, what do you think Revan and Malak were doing?"

"I have no idea," Bastila confessed. "It was obviously important, however."

"Yeah, the whole 'if we pass through this door we can never go back' bit was rather ominous," remarked Aithne.

"And that is why we must investigate this further," said Bastila with some satisfaction. "Is that all you wished to know?"

"No," admitted Aithne. "I'm also worried…" but she broke off, unable to finish. "No. I'm still a little concerned about the idea of you being in my dreams," she said, rather than what she'd intended.

"And are you so certain that it is not you in my dreams?" asked Bastila. Her tone, however, was not indignant. Rather, it was curious, and a bit frightened.

Aithne determined on a half-truth. "Yes. Bastila, I was right down there with Revan and Malak as they opened the door. I felt you, as if from far away, watching."

"I did look down at the scene," admitted Bastila, her brow contracting. Aithne felt an immediate spike in the fear surrounding the younger Padawan. "Regardless, our fates are linked," she said at last. "The vision was no doubt meant for us both."

"Whatever, Bastila," sighed Aithne, despairing of getting substantial answers that day. They'd reached the field outside the courtyard, in any case, and the kath hounds between their party and the ruins awaited. "Let's get going."

There was only one skirmish with kath hounds, actually. Juhani's redemption seemed to have made a positive impact on the large wild dogs. Now the horned ones were the ones most likely to attack, and that only if they felt cornered. In no time, Aithne, Carth, and Bastila stood before an ancient ruin east of the Enclave. It was obviously very old, but appeared to still be in good order. The three stood at the massive black door, made of a metal rarely used in construction, wondering how in the world they were going to get it to budge.

"There doesn't seem to be a keypad," Bastila said.

"I don't see any handle," Carth offered.

"Shut up and stop helping!" Aithne cried. Closing her eyes, she felt out with the Force to determine the makings of the door. In satisfaction, then, she opened her eyes, marched up to the door, and pushed the very center of it. The button depressed, and the door slid open.

"That was too easy," muttered Bastila. Aithne smiled brilliantly at her, and bowed for her companions to precede her.

They passed through a low, wide hall. It was in surprisingly good repair. Aithne heard nary a crumble or creak throughout the place. They opened another button door at the end of the room, and were suddenly confronted with a spidery looking droid.

It looked incredibly old, at least as old as the ruin itself. All its metal was oxidized, and every time it moved it creaked. But it did in fact move. And furthermore, it spoke.

Not that Aithne could understand it. It spoke in a strange dialect incomprehensible to her, even with all the languages she knew. She looked at Bastila, but the younger Padawan was obviously just as clueless herself as to the droid could be saying.

"What language is that?" Aithne ventured at last. "What are you trying to say?"

The droid clicked and whirred for a few seconds. Then it began speaking again, this time in a whining growl. Aithne didn't understand this speech any better than the droid's last.

"Bastila, do you have any idea what the droid is saying?" she said helplessly.

"I think the droid is trying to communicate with us by cycling through a variety of ancient languages," guessed Bastila. "Each time it spoke it was using a very different alien dialect. The droid can probably understand us. The only problem is it may not have been programmed with the phenomes of a language we can understand."

/I can reproduce any of the languages spoken by the slaves of the Builders/ said the droid in a gurgling croak Aithne instantly recognized.

"Droid, I understood that," she said, communicating her desire for the droid to continue speaking its current language.

"I recognize this language as well," said Bastila. "It is an archaic variant of the Selkath dialect spoken on Manaan. But why would a droid on Dantooine be programmed to speak ancient Selkath?"

/Communication was vital to insure that the slaves constructed this temple according to the wishes of the Builders/ replied the droid. /But you are not of the slave species/ it mused, apparently addressing Aithne. /You are like the one who came before/.

"The droid must be referring to Revan," guessed Bastila. "The Dark Lord and Malak most likely encountered this droid when they explored these ruins."

"Fascinating," drawled Aithne, not particularly interested in what had happened except as related to whatever weapon or power they had unleashed upon the galaxy. "So droid, what are you? Why are you here?"

/I am the Overseer/ the droid replied. Aithne, under her breath, translated for Carth. /The Builders programmed me to enforce discipline among the slaves while this monument to the power of the Star Forge was constructed. At project completion all slaves were executed. I was reprogrammed to serve should a Builder ever return to search for knowledge of the Star Forge/.

"So how long have you been here, anyway?"

/My chronological circuits have marked over ten full revolutions of this system's outermost planet around its sun since the Builders left/, replied the droid impassively. Bastila gasped.

"Ten revolutions!" she exclaimed. "That would take more than twenty thousand years. If this is true then this droid is nearly five thousand years older than the Republic itself! There must be some mistake."

Carth whistled lowly as the droid replied /There is no mistake. The Builders constructed my chronological circuitry using the technology of the Star Forge itself. My calculations are infallible/.

"Ok, Mr. Ancient Droid," said Aithne, trying to take it all in, "Who are these Builders you keep talking about?"

/The Builders are the great Masters of the galaxy, the conquerors of all worlds, the rulers of the Infinite Empire and the creators of the Star Forge/, the droid said in what Aithne could only assume was an important tone. It was hard to tell in between the gargles and spit of the ancient Selkath.

"These Builders must have been an extinct people," said Bastila to Aithne, "though it is strange there is no record of their existence. Even the archives at the Jedi Academy make no mention of them. In the years before the Republic the Hutts were a dominant force in the galaxy, but they never constructed an empire. In fact," she marveled, "I know of no species that would fit this description."

Aithne shrugged. "Neither have I. Just 'cause we don't know about it doesn't mean it's not out there. Or wasn't previously. I've seen some pretty strange things. Maybe something happened to wipe the Builders out."

The droid objected. It sputtered angrily /The Empire of the Builders is infinite and everlasting. None can stand against their might and the power of the Star Forge!/

Aithne crossed her arms, willing to put it to the trial. "Well, have you seen a Builder recently?"

The droid skittered about on its claws for a few seconds. /I have been here ever since the completion of this monument. In all this time, no Builder has returned to seek information on the Star Forge./

"Aw, don't worry. I'm seeking," Aithne said reassuringly. Beside her, Carth smiled to see her comforting the ancient junk pile of a droid. "What is the Star Forge?"

The droid whirled its 'head' around several times in excitement. /The Star Forge is the glory of the Builders, the apex of their Infinite Empire. It is a machine of invincible might, a tool of unstoppable conquest!/

Aithne waited for the droid to continue. It did not seem to have anything further to say. "You…" she hazarded, "…you don't really know what it is, do you?"

The droid started speaking again. /The…the Star Forge is the glory of the Builders, the apex of their Infinite Empire. It is a machine of invincible might, a tool of unstoppable conquest./

Bastila's face fell. Aithne herself felt a kind of anticlimactic disappointment. "The droid is obviously not programmed with the knowledge we seek," remarked Bastila unnecessarily. "The Star Forge sounds like some kind of weapon, perhaps, though in fact it could be anything."

"Hmm…" Aithne thought aloud. "Forge. A factory or a weapons plant, maybe?"

"Maybe," Bastila said skeptically, obviously displeased with so commonplace an explanation. "That might explain how the Sith were able to amass a fleet so quickly. But I suspect the Star Forge is more powerful than a mere factory. Maybe the droid has more information we can use. It seems to respond to you; perhaps you should ask it something else."

Aithne thought for a moment. "Ok, Mr. Ancient Droid. What's your purpose here again?"

/Now that the slaves are gone,/ explained the droid, /my purpose is to aid those who seek knowledge of the Star Forge…if they are worthy. The ones who came before you- the ones like you, not Builders, but not slaves- sought knowledge of the Star Forge and its origins. They proved themselves worthy. They discovered the secrets of the Star Forge locked beyond the sealed door behind me. But there was another who failed to unlock the secrets and paid the ultimate price./

For the first time, Aithne noticed a body off to the left. Bastila walked over and turned the man over. He was severely burned, but Aithne recognized him as an elderly Consular she'd seen just the other day in the Courtyard.

"The droid must be talking about poor Nemo," Bastila said. "The Council sent him here to investigate, and it cost him his life. This saddens me. He was kind to me when I was just a youngling."

"We'll report his death this evening to the Council. They can send a speeder and a team back for the body," Aithne said, putting a hand on Bastila's arm. "Right now, we have a job to do."

Bastila nodded, and Aithne turned back to the droid. "What can I do to prove myself worthy?" she asked in a hard, clear voice.

/Enter the proving grounds to the East and West,/ the droid commanded. /Within them, those who understand the will of the Builders can unlock the secrets and open the doors. But those who fail will be destroyed by the power of the Temple itself. More than this, I am not programmed to say./

Bastila's face, too, became harder. "Revan and Malak unlocked the sealed door and uncovered the secrets of the Star Forge," she said. "Now Malak is using the Star Forge to fuel his conquest of the Republic. We have to find out what they uncovered. We have to find a way to unseal these doors to learn more about the Star Forge! The Republic is depending on us!"

Aithne was torn between weariness and a highly inappropriate amusement. "What else is new?" she said under her breath. Carth heard her, and let out a short, surprised bark of laughter. Bastila looked at the two of them with annoyance. "Come on," Aithne said.

And drawing her lightsaber, she strode into the room waiting to the west.

A droid, looking much like the Overseer in the room behind them, greeted them. But not near so kindly. This droid seemed to feel like a proper greeting consisted of shooting at the guest and attacking callers with a flamethrower. Aithne and Bastila were hard pressed on the defensive for several minutes. Eventually, Aithne noticed that only Carth's shots were making any impact on the droid.

On a hunch, Aithne called out to Carth to throw her a vibroblade. Carth always carried weapons, so in a flash he'd tossed Aithne her own carefully modified vibroblade. Sheathing her lightsaber, Aithne brandished the blade, and in seconds, the droid was down and out.

"That was quick strategic maneuver, Aithne. Well done," Bastila praised her after she'd caught her breath.

"Yeah. I'm thinking we'll encounter another one of those guardians on the other side," Aithne said, panting slightly. "You'd better borrow Mission's vibroblade for a while."

Bastila did so. Aithne sized up an ancient looking computer console in the now guard-less western chamber. Curiously, she pressed a button.

Strange words filled both the screen and the air. "Spoken and written components," she said aloud. "Hmmm…I wonder."

As soon as she had said it, the computer whirred and beeped. Suddenly, a tray shot out, a receptacle of sorts. "The computer seems to want something from me," she observed.

"I think it's trying to convert to our language," said Bastila. "Just like the Overseer back there."

"Why don't you give it a datapad or something?" suggested Carth.

Aithne shrugged, then took out one of her least favorite datapad novels from her pack that contained all the knowledge she and the party had gained. She placed it into the receptacle. The computer took it in, and beeped and whirred some more. After this, Basic Characters appeared on the screen, but it was gibberish to Aithne and the others.

"I wonder what it wants now?" asked Aithne in irritation. She kicked the computer impatiently, which accomplished nothing but added injury to inconvenience. "Force! Stupid computer!" she muttered.

Suddenly the tray shot out again, and words filled the air and screen. "Language Conversion Complete," said the computer, in perfect Basic.

Aithne retrieved her datapad. After that, the computer gave her a quiz so simple a five year old could have passed, and told her that she'd opened the life seal on the locked door.

"Well that was…odd," she observed. "Let's go take care of the other one."

After a fight with a droid with a freeze ray and another stupidly simple quiz, Aithne had unlocked the sealed door.

"Secrets of the Star Forge, prepare to yield to my power!" she cackled.

"Aithne, I beg of you, please do not act so," said Bastila. She sounded annoyed, but there was another undertone in her voice. Aithne looked sideways at her. If she didn't know any better she'd think Bastila was actually afraid.

"C'mon Bastila, she's just playing," Carth laughed. "Lighten up!"

But Bastila said nothing in reply, and Aithne felt the joke had fallen rather flat. So awkwardly, she opened the door, and walked into the corridor she had roamed in her dreams six weeks ago. With no ceremony like Revan and Malak's, lest it get too creepy, Aithne opened the door and walked forward to see...

A triangular little column.

"Well that's impressive," scoffed Carth.

"No, wait," said Aithne, feeling very strange. Almost as if she were guided by another, she moved forward. As she approached, the column opened, and out soared a shining sphere, which in turn began glowing, and stars and planets were projected out in a sort of bluish light.

"Now what do you say?" challenged Aithne. Carth was mute.

"This…this must be what Revan and Malak found when they entered this temple," breathed Bastila. "This must be where their journey down the dark path began."

Privately, Aithne felt that Revan and Malak had been well down the dark path before they'd ever set foot in this temple, but she merely said "Maybe. But what is it?"

"This is a…a map. Some sort of intergalactic navigational chart," replied Bastila. "Revan and Malak must have used this to lead them to the Star Forge. We could use this map to follow their path and find the Star Forge ourselves. But we must be wary. They may have laid traps or concealed what they found."

"Not to mention that if Revan and Malak started down the dark path here, we'd just be following them down that same road," said Aithne drily. "So what do you think the Star Forge is?"

"I…I don't know," Bastila admitted awkwardly, "but Revan and Malak were very interested in finding it. It must be a tool of some type…or maybe a weapon. Perhaps the Council can tell us more. But I think this map may be the key to finding the Star Forge, whatever it is." she continued. Bastila stepped forward and began examining the Star Map more closely. Aithne handed her a datapad to download the information on. Bastila pointed suddenly to a planet on the map. "See this world here? This looks like Korriban, a Sith world. And if that's Korriban, then this is…Kashyyyk, and Tatooine…and here's Manaan."

Each time Bastila named a location, she pointed to a planet that glowed upon the Star Map's surface. Looking at the map, however, she frowned. "But there are pieces missing," she said, disappointed. "Incomplete hyperspace coordinates, corrupted data, and there doesn't seem to be anything indicating where the Star Forge itself might be."

Aithne groaned. "Why do I get the feeling that I'm about to go on a Star Map hunt with you across the galaxy?"

"Well if that's what the galaxy needs to be saved!" Bastila retorted sharply. Nevertheless she removed the datapad from the Star Map and handed it to Aithne. It now contained the information from the map, and Aithne could access it whenever she liked. "This map can't take us to the Star Forge," Bastila continued in a calmer tone, "But I know that Revan and Malak visited Korriban at least once. Perhaps they discovered something more there. They may have found something on each of the other worlds that completed this map. Maybe if we find all the pieces they will lead us to the Star Forge…and some way to destroy it."

Carth wasn't liking the idea any more than Aithne. "That sounds like quite a supposition," he said. "What if you're wrong?"

Bastila transferred her glare to the pilot. "What if I'm right? We can't ignore this. Finding the Star Forge might very well be the key to defeating the Sith!" Her voice thrilled at the prospect. "We must inform the Council of what we have discovered," she said, becoming more excited. "They must decide our next course of action, though I suspect our task has only just begun."

_Our task, _mused Aithne as she and the others vacated the ancient ruin. _No, if the Council decrees that Bastila must find these Star Maps, I will go along, if only to keep her from messing everything up with that pride of hers. But what will become of the others? Mission, Zaalbar, Canderous, T3? _With even more apprehension, Aithne thought _what will become of the _Hawk_? Of Carth? Will he leave us now?_

As they exited the ruin, Aithne turned to Bastila and Carth. "Okay if we stop by the Matales'? I'd like to get that resolved as soon as possible."

"I'm good," said Carth, who looked like he could use a distraction. The expression on his face suggested that maybe his thoughts were as heavy as Aithne's.

"I will be glad to assist you in any mission the Council has given you," returned Bastila properly, but she looked troubled. As Aithne turned towards the Matale grounds, she opened up a conversation with the younger Padawan.

"Bastila, is something bothering you?"

"Not exactly," Bastila said. "But now that we have found this Star Map, the bond the Jedi have told us about becomes of much more consequence. It may be that the two of us shall be working together for quite some time. I do not dispute the fact that a bond exists. I can feel it, as I'm sure you can. But how this may affect any mission we undertake in the future remains in question."

Aithne steeled herself. A lecture was coming. She could feel it. Maybe she could even feel it through that infernal bond.

"Does the bond mean my presence is necessary?" she returned lightly. "'Cause if it isn't perhaps the Jedi might let me be on my way." She snorted. "Might save you a lot of trouble."

Bastila almost smiled. "No, your presence is necessary," she said. "But it is no guarantee of our success. I admit, I'm a little disturbed that we are bonded in such a way- that the bond exists in the first place. I saw your service records when you were transferred aboard the _Endar Spire_. I have observed you on Taris and throughout your training, but apart from that I know very little about you. I'd like to ask you a few questions, given our relationship."

Aithne had to restrain herself. Bastila was lying. She was obviously lying. Carth had told her that Bastila had had her transferred aboard the _Spire._ What was Bastila's game?

Carth apparently had similar thoughts. "Well this should be interesting," he muttered to himself.

_Alright, I'll play, _thought Aithne. "Fine. Do your worst."

"Don't worry. These are simple questions. Nothing too intrusive," promised the younger woman. "First, what kind of background do you have?"

"Well, I _was_ a scout," Aithne began. "Ever since I was around sixteen. Jumping world to world, minding my own business, seeing what there is to see, working odd jobs, la-di-da. But then for whatever reason, the Republic press-ganged me. A couple of months after that, the ship I was stationed on crashed on a planet and me and this paranoid pilot guy rescued a bratty Jedi princess. The three of us, an old Mandalorian, a Wookiee, and a teenage Twi'lek street rat escaped on a stolen star freighter just before Darth Malak blew the planet sky high. Right after that the Jedi press-ganged me for some mysterious reason of _their_ own. Nothing too complicated."

She gazed levelly at Bastila. To her credit, Bastila looked a little abashed, and Carth smiled in grim satisfaction at something. But Bastila recollected herself. "On what planet were you born?" she persisted.

"Deralia," answered Aithne, puzzled. _But she knows that…_"Why?"

Bastila didn't answer. "Excellent. Your current age is?"

Aithne was fed up. All the questions Bastila was asking could be found in her service records. Why was Bastila asking what she already knew? The only possible explanation was that the Jedi was looking for something else in the answers Aithne was giving. Aithne was already playing one game with the Jedi. She had no interest in playing another. There was a limit to how deep into Bastila's poo-doo Aithne was willing to wade. "3,012," she answered at last. "Healthy living, you know?"

"I see you intend to be childish about this," Bastila huffed. "I guess I won't get anywhere continuing our discussion right now, will I?"

As they walked on, Aithne gave Bastila a look. "Bastila, if you wanted serious answers you should have asked serious questions. Those were all in my service records."

As Aithne watched out of the corner of her eye, Bastila reddened slightly. "Yes, well. I suppose I'll just have to speak to you later about it. Hopefully you'll be a little more…mature."

"I wouldn't count on it," Aithne said. "Not until _you_ are. But you weren't done lecturing me."

"I did have something else to say," Bastila said, surprised. "How did you know?"

Aithne smirked. "Well, your face is all scrunched up like a kinrath pup, and I don't think it was all my sparkling wit."

Carth laughed. Bastila scowled. "An amusing description," she replied acidly. "But hardly the truth. We both know the reason you have some idea what I'm thinking: the bond we share."

Aithne rolled her eyes. "Right. That again."

Bastila continued. "Our connection allows us glimpses into each other's minds. We can feel some of what the other feels and what I feel within you troubles me. A Padawan must receive considerable training. They must learn to control their emotions and darker impulses. Often it takes years before using the Force can be considered safe. The fact that you are so strong in the Force and have had such relatively little training could have terrible consequences. For you, and for everyone around you."

Aithne frowned, remembering how she had unintentionally leaned on the Council upon first arriving on Dantooine. "I don't want to hurt anyone," she said, serious for once.

"I know you don't," said Bastila, placing a hand upon her shoulder as the three of them turned into the Matale grounds. "But the choices you make could affect both our destinies, not to mention the fate of the Republic and the entire galaxy. There is much at stake. Thankfully, you have exhibited a degree of compassion and self-control up to this point, at least in your actions. Your words are often- brash. Sometimes you exhibit a veiled hostility that makes me worry there is much anger in you."

Aithne felt her face grow hot. "I wonder why that is," she growled. Bastila didn't hear her. She was in full flow now.

"Maintain your compassion and self control, Aithne," Bastila extorted her. "We must all resist the influence of the Dark Side! It is everything we are fighting against! This is doubly important for you, with your natural affinity to the Force!"

Aithne shook loose of Bastila's grip, which had been steadily tightening. "Ok, Bastila," she began. "How is this supposed to help me? How is hearing about how much danger I am in of falling going to help me combat my fear? How is hearing how gifted and how special I am going to help me combat my pride? Besides," she said, knowing she tread on dangerous ground, "I'm not so sure the Dark Side is to be shunned and cut out of one's self, after all." Bastila stiffened, and opened her mouth to reply. Aithne held up her hand. "I'm not going to go out and embrace it and start making Malak for Lord of the Galaxy posters, so stop frowning at me. But why do I need a sermon?"

Bastila thought for a moment, seeming to weigh her words. "I'm sorry if I come across as harsh," she said finally, as the Matale mansion came into view. "But I am concerned for you, for our mission, and for myself as well. Our destinies are intertwined. Everything one of us does will have consequences for the other. Any reckless behavior on your part is likely to affect me as well."

Aithne sighed. "Bastila, you've seen my spirit. We always meditate together. You ought to know I won't do anything to hurt you."

Bastila's expression softened. "I believe you truly mean what you say, for now. But sometimes it is not easy to keep such promises. Your power could be a gift or a curse. When you need guidance, or advice, or support I will do my best to help you stay on the path of the light."

Aithne gritted her teeth and bowed. "I would appreciate any help you could offer," she lied, in an effort to end the conversation. Bastila meant well, and Aithne did appreciate her intentions, but her lectures were taxing, to say the least.

"I only hope I will have the wisdom to help you through the dark times," replied Bastila, their 'bond' obviously unable to tell her Aithne lied.

"Are we good?" Aithne asked. "'Cause we're at the Matale mansion."

Bastila looked up. "So we are. How did that happen?"

"You were too involved in your lecture to notice the walk," Carth said wearily. Aithne shot him a sympathetic look. It was boring and annoying enough for her to listen to Bastila's lectures. She couldn't imagine how it must be for Carth, who had no personal interest whatsoever in the contents of the lectures. Aithne looked sideways at him again beneath her lashes. At least- she thought he didn't.

"Oh. Well. Let us inquire for Mr. Matale, then."

The Matale mansion was huge to the point of being ostentatious. There was nothing understated or unassuming. Everything was ornate and in the best of taste, but the sheer much-ness of it was rather overwhelming.

Aithne alerted the doorkeeper droid to their presence, and the master of the property was duly fetched.

Ahlan Matale emerged from his household accompanied by no less than four security droids. Carth shook his head in disgust. Aithne understood immediately. It was rather ridiculous- the implication that two Jedi and a Republic soldier might possibly attack him. But she kept her face impassive, and beside her, Bastila did the same.

"My protocol droid tells me you are here on behalf of the Council," Mr. Matale said. "I was beginning to think my demands had been ignored. Though I think your time would be better spent interrogating the Sandrals as to the whereabouts of my son Shen!" His voice was arrogant, angry. Aithne struggled to keep her face and voice calm, when behind her eyes she was raging. _That's it. It's not about eliminating emotion and passion, it's about controlling them._

"Are you so certain the Sandrals are to blame?" she asked lightly.

"Many years ago I brought my family here to Dantooine to escape the crush of humanity on the Core Worlds," Mr. Matale explained impatiently, tapping his foot just enough for Aithne to clearly see the movement. "Soon after we settled here, the Sandrals arrived. And they have been a plague on my house ever since!"

Carth snorted. "Somehow, I imagine the story from the Sandrals would sound about the same, don't you?" he asked Aithne in a low voice. Aithne gave a tight little smile. Never let it be said that Carth Onasi was a stupid man.

Ahlan had obviously heard. He glared at Carth. "The injustices the Sandrals have committed against the Matales are far too numerous to name," he cried, before lowering his voice. "But the Council is aware of our many disputes. Recently," he related, "I discovered several Sandral droids trespassing on my land."

"Did the droids communicate their purpose?" Aithne asked briskly, hoping the man had come to a point.

"I have no idea what nefarious purpose lay behind their arrival," shrugged Mr. Matale. "My own assassination, perhaps. Destruction of my property. Maybe a simple spy mission. I wasn't about to find out. My own security droids destroyed the invaders; not a single one survived. It was shortly after this that Shen, my only son and heir to the Matale estate, vanished. Obviously Nurik, the unscrupulous head of the Sandral clan, has abducted my son in retaliation for the destruction of his droids!"

_Well if he had, I could hardly blame him for wanting to tick you off, _thought Aithne privately. Publicly, she only said, "I shall go and speak to Nurik Sandral."

This seemed to anger Ahlan Matale for some reason. "The only resolution possible is the immediate return of my son!" he cried. "Why does the Council insist on stalling? The life of my son is at stake! Is it possible…" abruptly Mr. Matale's face went still. "Yes," he said, in quite a different tone. "Of course. Now I understand. I am a man of the world," he said. "I know how things are done. I will make a …contribution…of one thousand credits to the Council in exchange for rescuing Shen from the Sandrals. I will present the credits directly to you, of course. Whether the Council ever learns of this 'donation' is completely up to you."

If anything, Aithne was amused. "Please, Mr. Matale," she said. "Bribery doesn't work on me. I'll find whatever solution there is to find. I will locate your son. But you cannot tempt me, or the Council, I'd wager, in any way that would rush the process."

Mr. Matale smiled, as if he did not believe her. "Nevertheless," he replied, "my offer still stands. One thousand credits for Shen's safe return. Know, however," he said, now in a frankly threatening tone, "that I will not sit idly by much longer. Eventually, I will take whatever action is necessary to rescue my son…including razing the entire Sandral estate!"

Carth stepped forward, gaze challenging the rich landowner. "You would be willing to risk open war over this?" he said, suggesting with his tone that Ahlan Matale had not perhaps considered all of the ramifications this decision would have.

Ahlan Matale through his hands up, as if washing them of any and all guilt. "It is the Sandrals who have started this!" he declared, "Not I!"

"And here I thought you would blame us, if we failed," replied Carth in a reasonable tone. His gaze hardened, and he continued. "It seems everyone is responsible for your actions except for you."

Aithne could not restrain herself anymore. She outright clapped for the man. "Bravo, Carth!"

Ahlan Matale stepped back, deeply offended. "I don't need to stand here and listen to…such…such impertinence!" He seemed unable to leave, however, as Bastila added her own congratulations to the pilot.

"I'm impressed, Carth," she said coolly. "That interjection was very Jedi-like."

"Great. Now you've ruined it," Aithne complained, at the same moment Carth said,

"What can I say? You pick up a few things." They both looked at each other, and laughed. In the background, Ahlan Matale grunted in disgust.

"I'm afraid Ahlan is not just making idle threats," Bastila began in a more serious vein. "He is rash and foolish enough to attempt a full-scale assault on the Sandral estate. Such action would result in all-out war between the families."

"I've seen men like Ahlan Matale before," Carth advised Aithne. "He's so convinced that his hatred is justified he's prepared to do anything and if we don't intervene, there will be war."

Ahlan Matale seemed to feel that he'd been ignored quite enough. "Until you find Shen, Jedi," he spat. "We have nothing further to discuss. I suggest you hurry south to their estate, lest I take matters into my own hands." And with a dramatic flourish worthy of a professional actor, he retreated into his mansion.

"Good riddance," muttered Aithne. "Wouldn't be surprised if it turns out Shen just up and left."

"Still, the Council told us to locate Shen Matale," said Bastila, with as much reluctance as Aithne herself felt. "We'd better do so."

"Aw. Fine. Goody two-saber."

"You would have done so, despite all your grumbling," Bastila retorted. Aithne opened her mouth to reply, then deflated. Bastila was right.

"My shame will be everlasting," Aithne said melodramatically.

"Oh, I'm sure," Bastila said with heavy sarcasm. "As if you've ever suffered from shame in your life. Not that some shame wouldn't do you good…" she began.

"Please spare me Bastila," Aithne interrupted, looking anxious. "For Carth's sake?"

Bastila stopped. She looked at Carth, who looked back at her with an expression of such comic hope that Bastila laughed, and relented.

"You two are just like sisters, you know," Carth said presently, as the three made their way through Matale's fields to the exit to the grove, which in turn led to the Sandral estate.

"Are not!" both Bastila and Aithne said at the exact same time.

Carth lifted his eyebrows, amused. "No? Well, you get on one another's last nerve, for one thing. Next, you're always working to one-up one another and improve."

The women would have objected, but Carth interrupted, "Please, I've seen you two sparring. Don't even tell me you don't. You dislike each other most of the time, but I'm convinced," he finished, "that not only would each of you die for the other, but that if any one person hurt either of you, the other would hunt the offender down like a kath hound hunts down blood."

Aithne was struck by that. Strangely enough, that's exactly how she felt about Bastila. The younger woman was infuriating. Aithne disliked her eighty percent of the time. But somehow, the Jedi girl had become her friend.

But she had no time to muse on that. A group of kath hounds in the distance were chewing on something. At first, Aithne thought it was an iriaz or something. But as they drew nearer to the gate to the Grove, Aithne saw a human arm extending out from the pack. Without a thought, Aithne ignited her lightsaber. Blind fury raced through her at the indignity of such a death. Before Carth could take his position at her back, or Bastila could incapacitate the pack with her Force abilities, the kath hounds were as dead as the meat upon which they'd been feeding.

Aithne stood there, panting. She knelt at the side of the corpse. It was mauled, to be sure, but she could vaguely discern the face of a boy, maybe eighteen years old.

"Shen?" she said aloud to her companions, who by this time had caught up to her.

"Perhaps," said Bastila, in a slightly shaky voice. Carth, too, looked a bit thrown by her loss of control, though he had seen it before.

"No," Carth said, pulling out a datapad the boy had been carrying with him. "This diary identifies the body as Casus Sandral."

"Oh…" said Aithne, considering the possibilities. Carth nodded grimly.

"It says he was interested in archaeology. He'd come out to explore some of the ruins. He was killed by kath hounds…"

"And Nurik sent those droids out to look for him," finished Aithne. "My goodness, when Nurik's droids didn't return he must have thought that Ahlan Matale had either killed or kidnapped Casus."

"So Ahlan is probably correct in assuming that Nurik Sandral has kidnapped his son," guessed Bastila. "We'd better hurry, to clarify misunderstandings and save the Matale boy."

Aithne nodded. "Carth, put that datapad in my pack." Aithne stood. She reignited her lightsaber. In one swift motion she cut a rectangle into the Dantooine grassland. Concentrating, she used the Force to displace the earth within it, and to move the mangled remains of Casus into the makeshift grave. Finally, she replaced the dirt on top of him and packed it down.

"There. He deserves that much. He died too young."

Aithne's face was gray with the effort the burial had cost her. Neither Bastila nor Carth ventured to say a word of her action. But Bastila grabbed Aithne's hand quickly. A river of warmth flowed into Aithne. She saw some color drain from the younger woman's face. Aithne herself felt a little, just a little, better. Bastila dropped her hand. A look of mutual understanding and respect passed between the two. Carth patted Aithne on the back.

Silently then, the group continued on. There was one skirmish with Mandalorians. They'd killed a defenseless man right in front of Aithne and her party, though he had begged for them to kill his wife and children instead. Aithne left the carcasses of both murderers and victim to the kath hounds. But in relatively little time Aithne stood before the Sandral house.

"What's our approach? The man's a kidnapper." Carth asked.

"We tell him about his son, get inside of the house, and see what happens from there," replied Aithne.

Carth looked doubtful.

"No. It'll work," Aithne assured him. "I have a good feeling about this."

Carth shrugged. "Whatever you say. It's your assignment."

After telling the protocol droid doorkeeper of Casus Sandral's death, Aithne and the others were escorted inside the Sandral estate. While the Sandrals were obviously well-to-do, their wealth was displayed not in the design or décor of the manse, but in the up-to-the-minute technology that was everywhere.

Presently, a dark-skinned man of about fifty-five came out. His shoulders were stooped and his eyes were red. His entire being was heavy with grief. Aithne immediately felt for the man, and liked him much better than Ahlan Matale. Mr. Matale seemed to view the kidnap of Shen as an excuse to fight with Mr. Sandral. It was immediately apparent that Mr. Sandral missed Casus terribly.

"I have been informed by my protocol droid that you have news of my son Casus," Nurik Sandral said hesitantly, not sure whether he wanted the news or not.

"Mr. Sandral," Aithne began, "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but your son is dead. I buried his body earlier today myself."

"Casus…is dead?" asked Nurik, bowing his head. "I was afraid of this, yet in my heart I knew it must be true. What…what happened?"

"He was killed by kath hounds while exploring the Dantooine ruins."

Nurik reeled back. "Kath hounds? I…I was so certain the Matale family was to blame…" for a minute he sounded regretful. Then his face hardened. A mad light gleamed in his eye. "But this changes nothing! My own son is dead- why should I shed a tear about the disappearance of my bitter enemy's son?"

Bastila crossed her arms, frustrated. "Typical. Anything to continue the feud which has become so customary to you people."

"Hush!" Aithne hissed.

Nurik stepped forward hesitantly. "I must ask you something, though it is difficult for me," he began. "My son had a diary. His private, personal thoughts. Now that he is gone, I have nothing else to remember him by. Please. The diary means more to me than it ever could to you. I will give you one hundred credits for its safe return."

Aithne took off her pack, and rummaged around in it. At last, she pulled out the datapad Carth had found with Casus' body.

"Here," she said, handing it to Nurik Sandral. "My companion Carth Onasi found it with Casus' body. I was going to give it to you anyway. I don't need your money."

"I thank you for this," Nurik replied, obviously affected. His eyes glistened with unshed tears. "The diary is all I have left of my son. We have nothing further to discuss," he said, nearly overcome. "Please, leave me to my grief."

With that, he held up a hand and strode away into another room of the estate, leaving Aithne, Carth, and Bastila standing there in the parlor feeling awkward.

About thirty seconds past stunned, ten before leaving, and right at the should we, a young woman emerged from the house. She had Nurik's coloring, and had obviously been crying as well, but the young woman, maybe nineteen, stood tall. Her features were rather too strong for classical beauty, but her face was one of extraordinary character and grace. Aithne liked her on sight.

"You are here from the Council, are you not? Looking for Shen Matale?" she asked briskly, in a low voice.

"That's not the official story…" Aithne began, then trailed off. "Excuse me, but who are you?"

"My name is Rahasia," the girl said, "Nurik is my father."

"Nice to meet you," said Aithne, striding forward and shaking the girl's hand. "I'm Aithne Morrigan, and my companions are Commander Carth Onasi and Padawan Bastila Shan. Now, what do you know?"

Rahasia bit her lip, conflicted. "My father has not been himself since Casus disappeared," she began. "He is mad with grief, and he is convinced the Matales are responsible. He is not thinking rationally," she explained.

"Where are you going with this, Ms. Sandral?" asked Aithne, politely, but firmly.

"My father is a good man," insisted Rahasia. "When my mother died, he raised me and my brother by himself. He loves his children and we…" she looked down, "and I, love him. I just don't want you to judge him too harshly."

"But now your father has done something you don't approve of. What's going on, Ms. Sandral?" Aithne asked patiently.

"You must understand that Father has been under a terrible strain," excused Rahasia. "I have no wish to disobey him, but there are matters where even my father's authority is not absolute."

Aithne was tired of patience. "Please, just tell me what has happened!" she said, a little edge to her voice.

Rahasia looked around the hall, then hurried ahead. "My Father has kidnapped Shen Matale. He is holding him prisoner here in the compound. He feels this is a way to get back at the Matales, a way to get even for the disappearance of my brother, Casus." She hung her head now, in grief, and in shame.

Bastila nodded grimly. "I see. Well there is the answer we seek. The Jedi Council should be informed of this at once."

Carth held up a hand. "You don't think that perhaps there's more to look at here, do you? That maybe everything isn't what it appears?"

Aithne was in fact wondering why Rahasia Sandral, of all people, should be the one to tell them of the kidnap of Shen Matale, but Bastila disagreed. "Of course not. It seems very simple to me. The Council must be allowed to decide the next step."

But Rahasia sprung forward and grabbed Aithne's arm, shaking her head violently. "No!" she cried out. She looked around fearfully, afraid her cry may have alerted the household. When no one came to investigate, she continued. "Since Casus went missing my father has become unstable! He might hurt Shen if you do that! He no longer cares if the Matales are responsible for what happened to Casus. I am afraid my father will simply kill Shen out of a mad, misguided lust for vengeance!"

"Don't worry, I won't let that happen," Aithne assured the frightened girl. Rahasia stepped back, releasing Aithne's arm. "Just to satisfy my curiosity, though, why are you telling me all this?"

Rahasia's face softened. She smiled sadly. "Shen is an innocent victim in all this," she said simply. "My father is not a bad man, but his grief has driven him to madness. He must be stopped. Please, find Shen and rescue him before my father does something he will regret forever. I would take you to the prison…"

"But you can't be caught," finished Aithne grimly. "Understood."

"Take this key," Rahasia said, pressing one into Aithne's hand. "It opens an unguarded door at the rear of the estate. You and Shen can make your escape through there. There are many security droids guarding the halls," she warned. "Please hurry, you are Shen's only hope!"

"Why do you care about Shen?" asked Aithne, though she had a feeling she knew.

Sure enough, the girl broke into a tender smile, and began, "Shen and I…we…Well, we have been taught by our families to hate each other, just for being related to our fathers. But I met Shen alone one day in the city, away from his father, and, and Shen was so charming. So sweet. He didn't care at all that I was a Sandral, he just accepted me for who I was, with no reservations. We talked, and met again over months and fell in love. My brother Casus met him too and they were beginning to become friends…" Tears welled up in Rahasia's eyes. Her voice broke. "But then this whole mess had to happen! Please, find Shen and free him!" she begged, "You're my only hope!"

With a nod, Aithne walked out of the front doors and a ways away from the Sandral estate.

"We're not going, are we?" asked Carth incredulously.

"No. We're not. Bastila is." Aithne replied.

"I beg your pardon," Bastila said, greatly astonished.

"You wanted to update the Council on the affair?"

"Why, yes, but…"

"You've mastered Force speed?" Aithne interrupted.

"At thirteen, but…"

"I want you to go back to the Enclave," Aithne dictated. "Let the Council know what's going on with the Sandrals and the Matales. Say I'm going to attempt a resolution. Do not tell them of the Star Map; we will report on that together, later tonight. Then I want you to go to the _Ebon Hawk. _I want you to find Mission and get her on a speeder and give her directions. Carth," Aithne interrupted herself suddenly, "you did teach her to drive one earlier, right?"

"Yes, Aithne," Carth sighed.

"Right," said Aithne, turning back to Bastila. "Send Mission here right away. We'll wait for her, but have her here in an hour. Got all that? Oh- and…you should also organize a party for the retrieval of Nemo's body back at the Eastern ruins. You might go with them."

Bastila smiled sadly. "I would like that- but why do you want Mission?" she asked.

"We're breaking and entering," Aithne explained. "We need her."

Bastila nodded. "It is a sound plan. Whether it is wise or not remains to be seen, but it shall be as you say."

Abruptly the younger Padawan turned, and within seconds, she was out of sight. Carth and Aithne set down beneath a tree to wait.

Aithne had hoped that she'd have time to talk to Carth. About gizka, about speeders, about anything really, but the pilot was thoroughly absorbed in his own thoughts. He traced patterns in the dirt, muttering to himself every now and then, scowling so fiercely that Aithne was afraid to ask him what had engrossed him so very, very much. Aithne was very bored, rather lonely, and beginning to feel slightly awkward, when the sound of an approaching speeder announced Mission's arrival.

"Hey," Mission greeted the others. Carth managed a smile, and Aithne was happy to give one. "What are we doing?"

"Breaking and entering a rich man's house."

"Thanks for having Bastila get me. I would have hated to miss, you know?"

Aithne laughed. "Yeah, Mish. We know. Actually, we've got a key for the first door."

"Aww. That's no fun!" the teenager complained. "Let me slice in, Aithne, please!"

"Fine, you juvenile delinquent," Aithne grinned. "Slice away."

Aithne led the others around the side of the Sandral manor to the rear door Rahasia had mentioned. Mission got out her slicing kit, and in seconds they were in.

They were attacked by the first patrol droid right away. Aithne, slicing at the droid, noted it was a genuine assault droid, probably manufactured for the express purpose of warring with the Matales. Smiling madly, she cut it down, staring in satisfaction at the wreckage. Oh, how she loved to see stupid, bad things die.

Mission quickly retrieved the mines in the hallway, and Aithne opened a door close to them.

A trio of war droids met them, and Aithne used a Force Power she'd been perfecting on them, and destroyed them all with one electric blow.

"Destroy droid," Mission said, impressed. "Cool."

"How do you know?" Carth asked, nettled.

"Master Dorak lets me read, remember? Been bored out of my mind, remember?" Mission answered, annoyed at having to restate something that she'd already graced the crew with by saying once.

"Yeah, I remember," Carth said, chagrined.

"Strange child," Aithne remarked, walking over to a computer in the room.

"Hey!"

"Kidding, Mission," Aithne sang, smiling brilliantly. Mission caught the glint in the older woman's eye, and laughed ruefully.

"When will you guys stop calling me a kid?"

"Probably when you stop rising to the occasion," replied Aithne. She tapped on the keyboard a few times. "Mish, hand me a couple computer spikes," she said presently. Mission did so.

A couple seconds later, Mission heard the sounds of several distant explosions. She groaned, and looked at Aithne, only to find the Jedi Padawan grinning evilly.

"Don't tell us. We can guess," Mission said, looking at Carth expressively.

"She blew up every single assault droid Sandral owned, didn't she?" asked Carth. He looked torn between disapproval and amusement.

Aithne raised her eyebrows once. "I left him his protocol droids and everyday servants. But the assault droids had to go, flyboy. Mr. Sandral needs to learn to get along with his neighbors. If it makes you feel any better, I'd blow up Matale's droids, too, if I had half a chance. Now, c'mon. I found Shen's prison."

True to her word, Aithne led the others directly to a secured cell, and not a single patrol or assault droid stepped forth to stop them. Aithne bowed. "Mission? Will you do the honors?"

"I'd be delighted, _Jedi_ Morrigan," prodded Mission. She was rewarded for her jibe with a scowl from the frankly insulted Aithne. Nevertheless, in three seconds flat, Mission had cracked the cell open. Aithne opened the door, and found herself face to face with a young man, perhaps twenty, who had apparently just been pacing his cell.

His room was tiny, but furnished according to good taste. As for the man himself, Aithne had to give Mr. Sandral credit for the humane treatment of hostages. Shen Matale looked to be in the very best of good health. A meal lay finished on a small table to the right, and the man himself was unharmed. He was a very handsome young man, dark haired and of regular features, though, Aithne thought, rather short.

Now, however, his face was twisted in confusion. "Who are you?" he asked. "What do you want with me? Are you working for my father?"

"No, Force forbid," Aithne answered, with feeling. "I'm Aithne Morrigan. My friends are Commander Carth Onasi and Mission Vao. The Council sent me to rescue you."

Shen had smiled a bit at Aithne's vehement declaration that she was not working for his father, but now he frowned, and stepped back. "Rescue me? No," he said decisively. "I won't leave. It's too dangerous."

Aithne snorted. "Oh, c'mon. Don't be a baby. I'll protect you!"

Shen's face hardened ever so slightly. "You misunderstand me, Master Jedi. It's not my own safety I'm concerned about. I am worried about the fate of Nurik's daughter Rahasia. She has been trying to convince her father to release me ever since I was captured. If I escape, Nurik will think Rahasia is to blame. Nurik is insane with grief over the loss of his son, Casus," Shen explained, his face full of compassion. "If I leave with you, it is Rahasia who will suffer. I cannot allow that."

Aithne studied his face. What she saw there made her sigh. Determination and outright bantha-headedness stood out on every line of Shen Matale's face. "How can I get you to come with me?" she asked at last.

"If you can convince Rahasia to escape with us I will accompany you," promised Shen. "Though I do not know if she would be willing to turn her back on her home and family. Who could imagine a Sandral doing such a thing for the sake of a Matale? But if she will not go, then I, too, shall stay. I would rather face my own death than have her face her father's wrath because I escaped."

_Noble, and all that, I'm sure,_ Aithne thought. _But a more stupid, sentimental pose I've scarce seen struck. It's not like Nurik's going to kill Rahasia. _Still, Aithne nodded wearily. "Fine. I'll go speak to Rahasia."

"I wish you luck," said Shen fervently.

"My goodness," remarked Aithne in the safety of the halls to Carth and Mission. "The love of the children is almost as stupid and tiresome as the quarreling of the fathers."

Mission nodded fervently, but Carth looked doubtful, and Aithne didn't press the point. In no time the trio stood in front of Rahasia Sandral in her very own room. The woman started, confused and maybe a little frightened that they'd sought her out.

"What are you doing here?" she asked nervously. "Have you found Shen yet?"

Aithne shook her head in disgust. "Yeah. Tried to rescue him and everything but the idiot won't leave without you, Rahasia."

Rahasia smiled brilliantly. "Shen can be so stubborn, sometimes! If one of the security droids sees me wandering the halls father will get suspicious! I can't risk it," she continued, now looking worried and stressed.

Aithne coughed, looking down. "I…I don't think you'll find the security droids to be much of a problem."

Rahasia looked, if possible, even more worried than before. "I know Shen would rather die than leave me here alone to face the wrath of my father. And he'll be angry." She glared at Aithne. "You really haven't given me much choice, have you?"

"No. Sorry about that, but I suspect you'll thank me later," replied Aithne cheerfully, without the slightest bit of remorse.

"Or this will go up in smoke and all of us will die," muttered Carth, but low enough that Rahasia couldn't hear.

"Well yes, or that," conceded Aithne, in the same bright tone.

"You're crazy, you know?" said Mission, half fearfully, half admiringly.

"But you love me anyway," replied Aithne complacently.

Rahasia bit her lip, then seemed to come to a decision. "Alright. I'll do it. Tell Shen I will meet you outside the gates. Please hurry."

Rahasia turned her back and began stuffing a bag with essentials. Aithne wheeled about and trotted through the Sandral halls once again.

Soon she reached Shen, who was pacing even more anxiously than before. Aithne began to think his pacing might weather a tunnel out of Sandral manor. When he saw Aithne, he strode forward eagerly. "You are back," he observed, in a statement so obvious it was Bastila-worthy. "Have you spoken with Rahasia?"

"As promised," replied Aithne, bowing theatrically. "And she promised to meet us outside the gates."

"I pray she is not just telling me what I want to hear," murmured Shen. "But I will have to take that chance. Come," he said, beginning to walk out of his cell, "We must not keep Rahasia waiting."

They left the Sandrals, Shen chatting merrily the entire time about the many attractive qualities of Rahasia Sandral. Aithne was almost wishing she'd left the lovesick puppy to his cell when they finally met up with Rahasia. The young lovers flew into one another's arms. _You'd think that they'd been apart for months_, Aithne thought wryly. Carth however, looked on rather wistfully, as if he remembered a similar scene once. Mission's face was as disgusted as only the face of a person who has never been in love and can never imagine being so can be.

"Shen, you're safe!" cried Rahasia, caressing the young man's face.

"Rahasia, thank goodness you managed to escape!"

"It was all thanks to Aithne, this kind Jedi, that we managed to get this far at all," Rahasia told Shen. She stepped apart from Shen momentarily. "I thank you, Jedi Morrigan, for all that you have done for us."

Aithne waved aside her thanks. "It was no problem." She thought of the demolished droids inside the Sandral house and smiled. "Actually, I rather enjoyed it."

"No, we know that you must have gone to great personal risk to get us out of the Sandral estate undetected," Shen protested.

"Um…undetected might be a little bit of a stretch," Aithne admitted. "But still, you're free to go. Smashing a couple droids and pushing a couple buttons is a lot more risk free than most of our missions. Seriously," she told Shen Matale, a bit of an edge to her voice, "no reward is necessary."

"But surely we can…" Shen began, but the grass swooshed, and a fallen branch cracked in the distance. All three heads turned to the north, and a very angry looking Ahlan Matale was clear to be seen, making his way to the Sandral estate with two assault droids in tow.

The door behind them opened as well, and Nurik Sandral, who had obviously discovered the disappearance of Rahasia, emerged. He also, brought armed droids, though his, Aithne noted with satisfaction, were protocol droids that looked very confused with their new function.

_Well this is great,_ Aithne thought.

By this time, Mr. Matale had drawn close enough to see Shen. For a split second, relief darted across his face, then anger and annoyance.

"There you are Shen!" he said, motioning for his son to join him.

"Father!" cried Shen, moving closer to Rahasia.

"Mr. Matale," greeted Rahasia, clinging to her lover.

"Rahasia!" called Mr. Sandral.

"Father!" cried Rahasia, obviously more frightened of him than of Mr. Matale.

"Mr. Sandral," greeted Shen, rather nervously.

"Nurik," called Mr. Matale in disgust.

"Ahlan," replied Mr. Sandral in the same tone of hatred.

"Aithne!" cried Aithne. Everyone looked at her, confused. "Oh…sorry."

Ahlan shook his head, dismissing Aithne and her companions. He focused on Nurik Sandral. "I knew this was all your doing," he accused, justly enough, Aithne supposed. "I knew you had captured my son!"

"You had taken my Casus from me long before that!" retaliated Mr. Sandral, not justly at all. "You started it!"

Mr. Matale didn't even stop to wonder what Mr. Sandral meant. "I don't want to hear of your excuses! Now I will get revenge for your transgressions!"

His droids raised their weapons. Aithne stepped into the line of fire. "Ok, you two just need to calm down," she said.

Shen joined her, standing in between the two old men and their war droids. A moment later, so did Rahasia, followed by Carth and Mission. Rahasia grabbed Shen's hand.

"Please listen to Aithne, Father!"

"Why should I listen to the Jedi?" snarled Ahlan Matale. "All you want is to remain with that Sandral harlot!"

"My daughter is not a harlot, Matale dog!" cried Nurik Sandral from behind Aithne. Carth and Rahasia turned to face him, to stop him from making a move.

"Both of you," called Aithne in a voice of command she didn't know she had, "Calm down _now_!" She layered her voice with the Force, willing the two old patriarchs to obey her.

"We are trying to be reasonable here, of course," explained Nurik in a calmer tone. "We are sensible people after all. But our children are being so stubborn!"

"If Shen would just understand he has to do what I want, this would all be solved easily," explained Ahlan.

Aithne shoved her disgust back. Using the Force to layer her voice with honeyed persuasion, Aithne spoke. "Shen is capable of making decisions on his own,"

Ahlan looked down, beaten. "But he is my son…I don't want to lose him…"

"And I won't let my daughter go with him!" cried Nurik. Aithne judged Ahlan to no longer be a threat, so she turned to the irate Nurik. Shen remained facing his father, as did Mission.

"All children grow up and leave eventually," persuaded Aithne.

Nurik's eyes fell upon Rahasia, looking at her resignedly. "My little Rahasia…" he said brokenly, holding out his arms.

"Father!" cried Rahasia, seeing the return of the Father she loved. She ran to him, and the two embraced. Aithne smiled in satisfaction. Nurik, looking over Rahasia's head, spoke to his rival.

"I don't know why we fight like this. We got along in the beginning, didn't we, Ahlan?"

Rahasia returned to Shen's side, and the two clasped hands once more, now facing both Matale and Sandral.

"I don't know how you can think of that when we have our children trying to run away together," grumped Ahlan.

"Well it wouldn't be so bad, would it?" asked Nurik, in a very sensible tone. "Shen seems to genuinely care for my Rahasia. He might be a good husband for her someday."

Ahlan looked on at his son and Rahasia. His face softened at the determination and love shining forth from their faces. "Humph. As much as I may dislike it…I think I see it, too."

Aithne seized the opportunity. "You'll let them stay together, then?"

Ahlan thought for a moment. "I suppose…"he began reluctantly. "I suppose I might be convinced to see that Sandral girl with my son," he conceded finally, "if she is loyal to him. But I don't trust you a centimeter further, old man!" he flung the words at Nurik like a challenge. "Your daughter may treat Shen well, but you will never see them. They will live with me!"

_Even better. Custody battle, _thought Aithne, tensing once more and thinking what a lovely man Ahlan Matale was.

"Of course not, you pompous old windbag!" cried Nurik, "They'll be living with me!"

Neither man moved to hurt the other, though. They knew that were they to kill each other now it would only distress their children. And if Aithne was sure of one thing by this point, it was that both old man Matale and old man Sandral loved their children.

"Why don't you compromise?" she suggested lightly.

"I will not have them set foot in a Sandral household!" declared Ahlan.

"They shall not live with the Matales!" responded Nurik with equal vehemence.

Rahasia spoke up suddenly. "Then you propose to buy us a new house, then?" she asked, as if this was the only logical solution.

Both men opened their mouth to shout some more, then shut it. They both, for a moment, resembled nothing so much as two gray old fish.

Nurik was the first to speak. "Um…well, yes, actually that sounds like a good idea."

Ahlan looked dazed. "I'm surprised…That does sound like a good idea."

"A neutral territory where you both may visit your children and forget for a time about this pointless feud. I approve," said Aithne.

"We should discuss this more," Nurik said, beckoning to Ahlan. The droids forgotten, the two old men strode off into the fields to discuss the purchase of a Matale-Sandral household.

Shen and Rahasia sighed in relief. "Thank you, Master Jedi," said Shen after his father and Rahasia's were out of earshot. "Thank you for bringing us together and getting our parents to accept us."

Rahasia sprang forward lightly and clasped Aithne's hand. Her words soared out over the entire group. "Aithne, Carth, Mission, and your other friend, what was her name?"

"Bastila," said Aithne.

"Yes. We will praise you all to the Council for what you have done, and we will name our children after you."

"Please, spare me the effusion of your thanks," drawled Aithne. Then she replied, with genuine affection. "But you're welcome. And good luck. You two deserve it."

Shen smiled. "We will remember you always."

Waving her hand in farewell, Aithne led the others to the speeder. "Alright. Everybody in. Let's head back to the Enclave."

On the way back to the Enclave, no less than two groups of Mandalorians tried to destroy Aithne and the others, speeder notwithstanding. Aithne fought hard, but felt it really wasn't fair. A Jedi, a stealth op as good as Mission, and a vaunted Republic war hero fighting against them? The Mandalorians never stood a chance. Mission would stealth up and snipe at them while Carth threw grenades and crippling shots their way. Then Aithne would get up in their faces with a lightsaber. Neither fight lasted more than two minutes. Mission was the only one wounded, and that was an accidental shot by the Mandalorian leader, gone astray when Aithne cut him down. The shot proved to be a mere graze that Aithne cured in no time. After the second fight, the Mandalorian leader was dead. Aithne saw to her disgust that he'd been collecting the lightsabers of Jedi. She took them back, so that the owners could receive due honor back at the Academy.

The sun was red over the Dantooine plains, and little insects could be heard chirping in the brush when Aithne finally returned to the Enclave. Exhaustion washed over her like a wave. But there was still work to be done, and the small matter of her ultimate destiny to be determined. "Carth, Mission," Aithne said wearily. "Go back to the _Hawk_ and get Bastila. Tell her to meet me in the Council chambers in five. We need to make our report. "

"Will you be okay?" asked Mission.

"I'll be okay," sighed Aithne. "I'll see you guys later."

Feeling dirty, exhausted, and utterly helpless to escape whatever fate awaited her, Aithne trudged to the Council Chambers. She didn't know what the Council would say in response to her report, but she could guarantee she wouldn't like it. She had liked nothing they'd told her thus far. But she had no more energy to fight their orders than she had to fly, and if she could stop Malak, she'd do it, even if she lost her will and her soul in the bargain.

She walked into the Council Chamber, to find Bastila waiting for her, along with an expectant Zhar, Vrook, and Vandar.

"Ah, you have returned young Padawan," said Vandar in greeting. "Have you discovered what it was that Revan and Malak sought in those ruins?"

Aithne rummaged through her pack for a few seconds, then handed the Council the datapad with the Star Map information on it. Vandar skimmed it, and his little green face wrinkled until it resembled nothing so much as a raisin.

"This news of a Star Forge is disturbing. Action is required," he said, "but we must not do so in haste. We must discuss recent events in light of this new information."

Vrook spoke up. "We should consult the Jedi Archives to see if there is any mention of this Star Forge and what it might do. We must learn why Revan and Malak sought it out."

Vandar spoke again. "Go with Bastila now. We will summon you when we are done."

"Yes, do come with me and get something to eat," said Bastila, "you're positively pale!"

As soon as Bastila mentioned eating, Aithne's stomach roared with hunger. She nodded weakly, remembering she hadn't eaten a thing since breakfast with Carth and Mission and Zaalbar that morning.

Bastila led her to the cafeteria, and the two shared a silent meal. Afterwards, Aithne took a silent walk in one of the numerous gardens of the Enclave. The stars and starships shone bright overhead. Aithne found herself wondering which ships above were Malak's, striving to eliminate peace and conquer an unprepared galaxy. Which were the Republic's? Fighting bravely against a far more numerous and prepared foe. Which were innocent citizens, or smugglers, or tradesmen, simply living their day-to-day lives, regardless of Jedi or Sith or Republic?

"You are troubled," observed Bastila presently.

"Troubled!" Aithne let out a humorless laugh. "That's one way of putting it. I never asked for this. Any of it! I didn't want to be responsible for saving the galaxy! I sure didn't want to be a Jedi! This is all just so overwhelming!"

"You seemed to take it much better this morning," said Bastila, worry lines crossing her face.

Aithne snorted. "So what? I was able to keep it together long enough to go see a creepy Star Map in some ruins. I was able to sort out a pair of love struck kids. I joked. I _veiled my hostility_. Coping strategies, Bas. Right now I'm tired, though. I can't manage to hide the fact that I feel like I'm drowning. I'm so confused." She lowered her voice. "And so afraid."

Bastila opened her mouth to reply, her eyebrows lifting in censure.

"Don't you dare tell me there is no emotion!" cried Aithne, turning away violently. "You're just as afraid as I am. I can feel it."

Bastila looked down, ashamed. "No, you are right. I, too, feel no peace. Malak and the Sith loom ahead, a giant cloud. How we two are supposed to take it on, I have no idea."

"But we must, mustn't we?" asked Aithne, her emotion now spent. "He must be stopped, and if we have the power, we must use it to stop him. For every planet that may become Taris or Telos. For every Mission Vao and Carth Onasi, and every corpse that lies dishonored and forgotten on the smoking slaughter fields of this whole Sith war."

Bastila nodded, her eyes filled with compassion. "Yes. We must." She was silent for a moment. "I led a crew to retrieve Nemo," she volunteered. "They're burning him now, with honors."

Aithne nodded wearily. Death. Darkness. It seemed to surround her now, and all of her hope for normality was gone- snuffed out like a blown out candle. But just as she accepted this, a peace filled her, and a purpose, and the Force rang out within her like an answer.

A young Jedi, maybe thirteen, came out into the garden. "Oh, good. The Masters want you," he said, bowing.

Aithne and Bastila returned to the Council.

"Padawan," began Vandar, "you have done well in discovering the Star Map hidden within the ancient ruins. But there is more you must do in the battle against Malak and the Sith."

"I felt it to be so," replied Aithne calmly.

"We Jedi know victory over the Sith will not come through martial might," continued Vandar. "The Council has a mission for you, Padawan Aithne Morrigan."

"I have consulted our vast archives in an effort to discover the nature of this 'Star Forge'," relayed Master Dorak, "but all my efforts have been in vain."

"Still," put in Vrook, "the Council is in agreement. The Star Forge must be found! Revan and Malak sought it out when they began their tragic fall; the Star Forge is surely a powerful tool of the Dark Side."

Vandar continued, "The Star Map in the ruins showed you four planets, but it was incomplete. It did not show the location of the Star Forge itself. We believe there may be similar Star Maps on other planets. Each Star Map is likely a small piece of a larger puzzle. Find the Star Maps on Kashyyyk, Tatooine, Manaan, and Korriban and we believe they will lead you to the Star Forge."

"I will go," replied Aithne. "But just to be clear, this is in fact _my_ mission, right?"

Vandar nodded. Aithne felt the weight of the responsibility settle somewhere inside her stomach. She looked sideways at Bastila. The younger Padawan, however, appeared unsurprised.

"The Jedi have been ravaged by this war," continued Vandar, "by defections to Malak's cause and by Sith assassins. But we realize the importance of this mission. Yet if we sent a company of Jedi Knights with you we would surely draw the full attention of Malak and the Sith, dooming your efforts to failure."

Aithne hated to think of what that could possibly mean. She thought of Carth and Mission, of Zaalbar and Canderous, and even of Bastila. "Do I go alone, then?" she asked in a small voice.

"Secrecy is our best defense against the Sith," said Vandar, "but it would be foolish to send you on this quest without someone to aid you, young Padawan. Bastila will accompany you, for there is a powerful connection between you two, a connection that might be the key to unraveling the mysteries uncovered by Revan. And Juhani has also asked to accompany you," he added. "After long deliberation, we have granted her request."

Aithne felt a surge of relief despite herself.

"Juhani nearly fell to the Dark Side," stated Vrook. "Perhaps her presence will serve as a reminder of the dangers of that path."

Aithne didn't care what the Council's motives were in sending Juhani with her. She was grateful. She liked the Cathar, and Bastila was familiar to her. Still…

"Just those two?" she asked. "I'd like to take others, as well."

"If your companions from Taris wish, they may also accompany you," said Vandar gravely. "They possess skills you may find useful in your quest. Remember that secrecy and discretion are paramount to your success. You will not be able to hide the fact that you are a Jedi, nor should you. But the true nature of your mission must not reach Malak's ears. You may return here at any time. Dantooine will be a sanctuary for you, a safe haven. Here you can find supplies and whatever advice or other aid we may give you."

Aithne bowed her thanks. "When may I leave?" she asked simply.

"You can leave whenever you wish," replied Vrook. "The sooner the better. The longer you wait the stronger Malak becomes. But first, a warning, Padawan Aithne Morrigan." His voice grew grave, and gained importance. "The lure of the Dark Side is difficult to resist. I fear this quest to find the Star Forge could lead you down an all-too familiar path. The fate of the galaxy is in your hands, young Padawan. We pray you are up to the challenge. May the Force be with you."

Aithne turned, with Bastila, and returned to the _Ebon Hawk_.

"What are you going to do?" asked Bastila just outside the ship.

"Right now," replied Aithne. "I'm going to take a shower and go to sleep. Tomorrow, however," she continued, "I'm calling a crew meeting. I'll ask everyone if they want to come on this Star Map hunt with you, me, and Juhani, for all it might turn out to be a wild goose chase." She shrugged. "If Canderous doesn't wish to come, I'll make arrangements to leave Dantooine on the first available ship. If Mission doesn't want to come, I'll drop her off at the nearest Republic base with a school, with enough credits to enroll. If Zaalbar won't come, I'll leave him with Mission. If Carth doesn't come…" Here Aithne trailed off. The idea of any of her companions leaving was unpleasant. Carth leaving was somehow more so. She bit her lip, and there was a suspicious stinging at back of her eyes.

"Get some rest, Aithne," advised Bastila, with more kindness than was her wont. "We'll worry about it in the morning."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This still remains one of the longest chapters in the story, without being one of the better ones. Still, I think I've improved it somewhat. I hope you're enjoying my story.**

**May the Force Be With You,**

**LMSharp**


	16. Conversations

**Disclaimer: Nope. Not my plot. Just my take on it.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Sixteen<p>

Aithne rose early the next morning. She had not slept at all well the night before, and she was not in a good frame of mind at the moment. She was well aware that this might be the last day she saw those aboard with her, especially Canderous.

She ate breakfast alone in the common room. Having done so, she called in an echoing voice that would rouse the _Hawk_ for sure, "Crew Meeting in the Conference Room! Five minutes!"

Near the cockpit, there was a room with a long table. There were also several computer interfaces there, but Aithne had dubbed it the conference room as soon as she'd first gone over the ship. She went there now, and took up a place at the head of the table. She stood, hands on the table to brace herself. Before, too long, the crew of the _Ebon Hawk_ came stumbling in. Mission rubbed her eyes- long lashes still blinking off sleep. Zaalbar growled inquisitively as he entered. Both Canderous and Bastila, early risers, arrived looking fresh as daisies. But it was T3-M4's cheerful beep as he rolled in that made Mission groan in annoyance. Carth trudged in at the tail end of the parade, looking as sleep-deprived as Aithne felt, annoyed, and slightly curious.

"What's going on?" asked Canderous after everyone had arrived.

"Good morning all. I'm sorry to wake some of you up, but we all have some decisions to make this morning," Aithne began.

Mission glared, muttering something about decisions being just as well made after ten o'clock, but Carth perked up. "You have your orders, then?"

Aithne chose to ignore Mission. She nodded once at Carth. "Yes. As all of you know, Bastila, Carth, and I were sent to investigate some ancient ruins by the Council yesterday in response to the very strange dream Bastila and I shared upon our arrival.

"We discovered an ancient Star Map there, along with the knowledge that Revan and Malak had visited beforehand, and ultimately uncovered the key to the operation of an ancient tool or weapon known as the Star Forge. It is our belief, and that of the Jedi Council, that Malak is using this Star Forge to fuel his conquest of the Republic.

"It is tantamount to the Republic defense that this Star Forge be found, and destroyed. Unfortunately, the map Carth, Bastila, and I discovered was incomplete, though it did cite four other planets."

"So what are you supposed to do?" asked Mission.

"The Council thinks that if Bastila and I visit these four planets: Kashyyyk, Korriban, Tattooine, and Manaan, we may uncover more Star Maps, and the ultimate knowledge to the location of the Star Forge, and some way to destroy it. In this way, the Jedi hopes the two of us may cripple Malak's effort to conquer the galaxy." Aithne took a deep breath.

"I will not pretend that this is not a very dangerous mission. It may prove to be completely futile, but if there is even a chance that it will succeed, I and Bastila, at least, must go forward. If it should turn out that we are on to something, or if Bastila should be discovered to be alive, we will probably become the number one targets for every Sith in the galaxy. Considering this, I will not force anyone to accompany us who does not wish to."

Aithne was silent for a moment, struggling with her emotions. She gripped the table and closed her eyes tightly. "However," she added finally, "Each and every one of you that choose to come freely would be more than appreciated." She bit her lip, and looked up and around. "You all have skills that could prove to be invaluable in our mission, and besides- I have come to care for you all during the past several weeks." She smiled a bit. "I must confess that I'd miss you all terribly if you left." She was silent for a moment. Then she turned to her left. "Canderous? What do you say?" Aithne waited with baited breath, half hoping, half afraid.

He laughed a little, a dangerous, anticipatory sound. "What do I say? I say, Aithne Morrigan, that it was a lucky day in which I chose you to get me off Taris," he said. "This is a worthy quest, and we are sure to meet many enemies. Count me in." His dark eyes glittered, already imagining meeting the many Sith Aithne had said might pursue them in battle.

Aithne clasped his arm in a warrior's grip, smiling at him brilliantly. "I thank you, Canderous. Your help honors me." She turned next to Zaalbar. /Zaalbar, if you wish to be freed of your life debt I shall release you,/ she promised in his native Shyriiwook.

/To leave you now when you need me most would dishonor me,/ replied the Wookiee indignantly. /I shall stand by you, Aithne/.

/I thank you for your loyalty,/ Aithne returned gravely, joy welling up inside her. She tried not to feel too confident, but their chances were already looking better, now that Canderous and Zaalbar were along.

"Mish? What do you say?"

"If I can do anything to help you against Malak, I'm there, same as before!" promised Mission. "Besides, we're going to Tattooine, right? Maybe I'll find Griff!"

Aithne smiled. "I guess that means you're coming, too, huh, T3?" The droid beeped enthusiastically, rolling up between her and Mission. Aithne placed a hand on his casing affectionately.

Finally, she turned to Carth, bracing herself on the table again. She felt suddenly just as tense as she had at the start of the meeting, and realized in that moment that though the abandonment of any of the others would have hurt badly, Carth's abandonment would hurt worse. He had been her first friend on Taris, and looking forward, going into all these dangers, his presence at her side would bring the most comfort.

"Carth?" she asked simply.

For a moment, Carth seemed to think. Then he looked up, strode forward, and met Aithne's gaze with his caramel eyes. "I'll go," he said. "I'll see this through, Aithne, I promise."

He extended his hand. Aithne shook it, and it felt something like a vow. On whose part, she didn't know.

Then she turned to the crew. "I thank you all. Carth, if you'd input the coordinates to Kashyyyk, we'll head there first. I'm going to go pick up some supplies so we can leave this afternoon. Also, I'll be picking up an eighth crew member."

"Who's this?" Carth asked.

"You met her," replied Aithne. "You, too, Canderous. The Jedi have also sent the Jedi Knight Juhani to accompany us. She's a Cathar, very polite, and very humble. I'd like you all to welcome her, but don't overwhelm her. She's been through a lot."

"Cool," said Mission, "the more the merrier, you know?"

/Farewell then,/ growled Zaalbar.

"We'll see you later," said Canderous.

Aithne waved, and then left. She found Juhani in a meditation room, and the Cathar helped her haul supplies to the _Hawk_.

"Hey, Juhani, it's good to have you with us," said Aithne as they loaded stuff into the cargo hold.

"I am grateful that you are allowing me to come along, after what I tried to do," said the Jedi Guardian shyly.

"What? Kill me? People try to do that too often for me to hold any particular grudge against you for it, Juhani. In fact, I find it's better this way. Making friends with the people who try to kill me saves me a lot of time." She paused, as if considering. "And mess."

Juhani looked blank, and slightly hurt. Aithne laughed. "It's a joke, Juhani. You'll be useful on this mission, and frankly, I think travelling with me and the _Ebon Hawk_ crew will be good for you. You probably need some time away. Think of it as a vacation."

"We shall be rather too busy for a vacation," Juhani said, forehead wrinkled. Aithne sighed. "Oh- that was a joke, too, wasn't it?"

Aithne nodded. "You'll get it," she said. This Jedi had less of a sense of humor than Bastila at her worst! Never mind, she thought. Bastila was coming along wonderfully. Juhani would likely do the same. Zaalbar met them at the ramp, and helped them to get the supplies to the main hold. "Juhani- this is Zaalbar," Aithne said, as they worked. "Come on, I'll introduce you to the rest of the crew."

Juhani met Mission and T3, and greeted Bastila. When Carth met her again, he nodded briefly, if warily, and said a polite hello, but Canderous just glared darkly at the Cathar when Aithne pointed him out. He hadn't forgotten her Stasis. It was just as well, Aithne thought, as Juhani glared right back. The Mandalorians had destroyed the Cathar homeworld. If she recalled, that had actually been the massacre that called Revan into the war. Better Juhani and Canderous avoid one another than fight to the death.

After everyone was settled, Aithne made her way up to the cockpit, where Carth and Bastila stood.

"Captain Onasi? Are we ready for takeoff?" asked Aithne, bowing formally.

"All systems are go," replied Carth. "We've got clearance to leave Dantooine. Destination: Kashyyyk."

"Good. Thanks, Carth," Aithne said, dropping the formalities. She took her leave, and soon the ship rose from the waving grasses of the Dantooine plain. In no time, the Ebon Hawk spun through the cold nothingness of hyperspace, bound for the forest world of Kashyyyk, home of the Wookiees.

A few hours later, when Aithne knew they were well on their way and Bastila had gone out to meditate in the cargo hold with Juhani, she made her way to the cockpit. Carth was just flicking the autopilot switch when she entered. She swung herself into the copilot's chair and swiveled to face him. He leaned back, regarding her.

"You've been very quiet lately," she told him. "No playful banter. No wild accusations. Honestly, Onasi, I'm starting to get bored."

Carth smiled, but the expression didn't reach his eyes. "Have I been quiet?" he asked. "I suppose I have. I guess I just don't like being left out of the loop."

Aithne gave him her sauciest smile. "You were born out of the loop."

"Very cute," Carth replied drily. "If you got any cuter, you'd pass for a Gammorean's sister."

Aithne fluttered her eyelashes and placed both hands to her heart. "Oh, don't. Really, don't. My poor heart cannot bear such flattery!"

Carth held up a hand. "Look," he said, annoyed. "I'm serious. No one seems to want to tell me anything, and it's starting to irritate me."

Aithne stopped. She'd had a feeling that wouldn't work. "Alright. What's up?"

Carth calmed a little. "For one thing, I want to know what the Jedi Council said to you," he said. "They pulled you in there and refused to tell me anything about it."

Aithne pressed her lips together, irritated at his tone. "I've told you everything I know," she pointed out. "The Council wants me and Bastila to go gallivanting across the galaxy after these Star Maps."

Carth seized upon that. "But why?" he demanded. "Why you? You were a great help on Taris, but why would they keep you with us? Don't they…don't they have to train you?"

Aithne crossed her arms, getting angry now. "I think you're a little confused, flyboy," she told him. "This is my mission. You- and everyone else- agreed to come with _me_ this morning. Not the other way around. And frankly, I feel I've done pretty well with every task I've been given."

Carth reddened, angered in his turn. "You're a neophyte Padawan who's been saddled with the responsibility of tracking down these Star Maps," he said flatly. "Whether or not this is your mission, you wouldn't be here with us unless the Jedi Council said you could be. The Jedi encouraged you to stay with us and I don't believe the reasons they gave. Why you? Why us? This isn't normal, Aithne, whatever happened on Taris!"

Aithne froze. Even without being in on most of the conversations she and Bastila had had with the Council, Carth had taken the information he'd been given and come up with every single question she herself had yet to answer. Why was she a 'special case'? Why had the Council, after informing her of the dangers of leaving a Force Sensitive untrained, allowed her to go out on this seemingly all-important mission with only six weeks of training to her credit? What weren't they telling her?

Carth seemed to feel slightly ashamed of his outburst. "Look," he said. "I'm not trying to insult you, or imply that you're somehow responsible for the Jedi Council, but give me a hand here! There has to be a reason!"

Aithne felt a chill as she realized what his words implied. Either she wasn't strong enough, wasn't prepared enough to see them all through this, or she had secret information she wasn't letting Carth in on. What all this came down to was that he still didn't trust her.

"I think you'd better say exactly what you mean, Carth," she said finally. "What, should I just drop this mission, because I don't match your idea of what's needed here? Or would you prefer to leave, perhaps?" Her words were cold.

"No, I don't…" Carth retracted, considerably agitated. "I didn't mean that you weren't wanted, or that I want to go…it's just…" he threw up his hands, standing. "Damn it! I'll tell you this much," he said, jabbing a finger in Aithne's face. "I am _not_ going to wait around until I'm betrayed again!"

Aithne stood, lightning fast, giving him glare for glare, and had the satisfaction of seeing him step back a pace. "What? You think I would?" she shouted. "I am _not_ going to betray you! I am _not _Saul!"

"Well we'll just see about that, won't we?" muttered Carth.

The words hit Aithne with all the force of a blow. She pressed her lips together tightly, and turned away, before he could see the tears of anger and hurt welling up. "After everything?" she murmured. "Carth…I…" she trailed off.

His hand came down on her shoulder. "Look, I didn't mean it that way," he began. "I want to get to Saul, not…"

Aithne jerked away.

"Forget it," Carth muttered. "It seems all I can do is insult you, doesn't it? Just forget I said anything."

Aithne faced him, now more tired than anything else. "Not likely, Captain Onasi," she said quietly.

She strode out of the cockpit, trying to ignore the odd looks she was receiving from Zaalbar. She went straight to the women's dormitory, but that was no good. Mission was there. When Aithne saw her, she moved to turn away- she'd go to the med bay, or the conference room, or something, but Mission stopped her.

"You and Carth had a fight, huh?"

"Mission, I really don't want to talk about it," Aithne replied, blinking again and trying to keep her voice steady.

"Well that's no good. The entire ship heard you, Aithne; you're gonna have to talk this over with everybody, you know," said Mission, looking down and twiddling her thumbs. "You might as well get the worst of it over with and talk to me first."

Aithne sat down heavily next to her on the bunk. She tried to smile, tried to curse, but both attempts failed, and her lip trembled traitorously. She looked away. "I've been a bit of an idiot, that's all."

"What did he do?" Mission said calmly.

"Other than compare me to a traitor Sith admiral?" Aithne asked acidly.

"Wow, really?" Mission asked, raising her eyebrows. "Did he mean it?"

"Yes!" Aithne snapped. She sighed. "No. I don't know. He said he didn't, but that's not the point. The point is that he would say something like that at all- that he'd even think it. I mean, I know he's been through a lot. Could've warped anyone, I guess, having your mentor turn on you like that. But I thought we'd passed through that by now. I thought he must have realized by now that I'm not going to go all Sithy on him." Aithne snorted. "As if I even could. Might be better if I could, at that."

Mission looked at her sideways. "You don't mean that you'd like to go Sith but can't, do you? 'Cause—"

"No, of course not," Aithne said impatiently.

Mission nodded, understanding. "You mean that even if you wanted to, even if he gave you every reason to, you couldn't ever betray Carth. Not in a million years."

Aithne was silent a moment. She kicked the bunk bed post bad temperedly. "Like I said, I've been a bit of an idiot," she repeated. "You know this morning, when I was asking you all to come along? I really wanted you all to come. Canderous leaving would have depressed me, let alone put us out of a ship. If Zaalbar had decided to go I would've been really upset. Might've gone into the cargo hold and done ten rounds with the practice droid, then. You-" Mission's eyes softened, and Aithne hugged the girl to her side for a moment. "If you'd left I might've cried. For a couple days, mind. But Carth-" she trailed off.

"He's different," Mission said, eyes grave. Her lekku twitched uncomfortably. "I didn't really think I'd ever hate being right this much," she said in a quiet, serious voice. "You _do_ like him, don't you? A lot."

Aithne looked down at her hands, spreading them uselessly. "Yes. Force help me. I like him. A lot." The words didn't quite cover it, even. Carth was decent, kind, brave, and oh-so good looking. And now that she knew it was impossible, it was quite probably too late.

Mission leaned up against her, folding her arms around Aithne and holding her tight. Aithne felt the incongruity of it all, of this teenage girl comforting her as she discovered she'd bestowed her affections so unwisely, but she allowed the comfort, anyway. She let Mission be strong for her, just this once.

After a moment, Mission spoke. "Look. You're not the idiot here, alright? He is. The geezer would be lucky to land a girl like you, and it's his loss that he's too stupid to pull his head out of the past and see it, you know?"

Aithne nodded, the moment over. She turned to Mission, a bit embarrassed. "Thanks," she muttered. "Could you…not tell anyone else about this?"

"My lips are sealed," Mission promised, smiling. Aithne nodded quickly, and left.

Aithne went out of her way to avoid Carth for the next few days. Any time he came into a room she was in, she quickly turned to the nearest non-Carth person in the area and struck up a conversation, pretending to the highest spirits. It wasn't that she was angry, she told herself, it was just better that she not talk to him for a while. The tenth time she went through this routine, she admitted she might be angry. Just a little.

Through all of this, though, she only relearned the lesson that a grudge hurts no one so much as the bearer. She was obliged to be perfectly miserable, somewhat owing to the fact that she could not tell that her avoidance was having any effect on Carth Onasi. Still, she learned many interesting things in those days en route to Kashyyyk.

She learned that Juhani was not originally from the planet Cathar; that her parents had fled before her birth to some other world. Juhani described it as the "hind end of space, a pit of a world," but would not dignify the pit with a name. She learned that Juhani had had some sort of life changing encounter with a Jedi once that fixed her determination to become one herself.

She talked to Mission about her brother. One time, while playing Pazaak with the girl, industriously cheating and studiously ignoring Carth, she opened the conversation.

"So what do you think about Griff now?"

Mission looked down momentarily. "I've been thinking about Lena and what she said about Griff," she admitted, a light purple washing over her cheeks. "You know, how he was always blaming other people for his problems. There might be something to what she said."

Aithne was hopeful the girl was coming around. She didn't want to offend Mission, or the upset the tentative stability the girl had found, but from what little she knew about Griff, she couldn't feel that the girl's faith in her brother was well placed. "Do you mean you believe her story now?" she asked carefully.

"No, of course not," Mission denied quickly, then retracted. "Not really. But what if…what if it was his idea to leave me behind?" She held up her cards so they shielded her face. "I'm not saying Griff would just abandon me. But maybe…maybe he did want to leave me behind. Just temporarily, you know? He might have done that," she confessed. "If he planned on coming back later. But things didn't always work out for Griff the way he planned, you know? And that's when he'd get in trouble. He was always borrowing money he could never pay back. He might have been trying to skip out on his debts when he left Taris. He would have had to leave his little sister behind so it would look like he was coming back."

Aithne wondered if the girl realized what she'd just said. "Sort of like how you came to Taris in the first place, huh?" Aithne said pointedly.

"Yeah," Mission said hurriedly. Then she frowned, realizing the implications of the exchange. "Well, no. Not exactly. Look, all I'm trying to say is that the more I think back the more I realize I may be idolizing my brother a bit. Not seeing all his faults. I still want to find him," she said hastily, "I need to see him again. It's just that I'm not sure how I'll react when I do."

Aithne felt that she knew, but she didn't want to bring it up now. Instead, she contented herself with saying, "I know that when the time comes, you'll know what to say." She smirked. "I've never seen you at a loss for words yet."

Mission smiled, and pushed Aithne lightly. "Maybe. We'll see. I don't…I don't want to judge him yet. Maybe Lena was lying. Or maybe…maybe she wasn't. All I know is I'd like to speak to Griff myself. If we have the time, I'd like to go talk to the Czerka Corp rep on Tattooine and see what he has to say about where my brother is now."

"We'll head there eventually, Mish," Aithne said. "I promise." She looked down at her cards, and smiled from ear to ear. Laying down the plus five, she shouted out "Pazaak!" This was a victory indeed. It was the very first time she'd ever beaten the teenager.

Aithne spent a lot of time modifying and re-modifying weapons and armor with Canderous. On one such occasion she was adapting a lightsaber the Council had gifted her with after the defeat of the Mandalorian captain for her own use. As she worked, she talked.

"Hey, Canderous," she called over to the gruff Mandalorian. "Do you have any more war stories?"

She heard his laugh, like gravel being ground up in a blender. "You want another story, eh? You want to hear about some other world getting wasted? I knew you were the type. Your stagnant Republic has never seen some of the strange creatures and races we fought on the Outer Rim in those years. Heh. And you never will now."

"What do you mean?" asked Aithne, fitting together the wires around a Rubat crystal.

"If a world isn't strong enough to defend itself, it's basically forfeit," Canderous explained offhandedly, "but this story is about something a little different." His tone changed into his storytelling one, and Aithne's hands slowed.

"We were going through the asteroid fields of the Crispin system at the very edge of the galaxy, playing with the pirates and smugglers we found there. The main belt in the Crispin system consists of mainly small rocks covered in frozen methane gas shells and the pirates were using them for cover. Ha!" he laughed. "I remember using a thermal generator to cause the outer layer of one of the asteroids to vaporize in a picosecond. It blew out and shredded the three smugglers using it for cover."

Aithne heard the smile in his voice, and though she could not approve of the relish in his voice over the death of these smugglers, she could empathize somewhat with the elation of being smart, and triumphing over the stupid.

"But…" Canderous continued, his voice pausing dramatically. "That was a mistake."

"Why? What happened?" Aithne asked, switching on the lightsaber and making a few passes with the humming blade. Satisfied as to its functionality, she switched it off, tied it to her belt, and sat at Canderous' feet, as was tradition for young Mandalorian pupils being instructed in the ways of war. Canderous looked down, and for a moment he looked amazed that she knew the practice. The grizzled old warrior actually colored a bit, but then he continued, smiling just the tiniest little smile.

"The asteroid I had targeted was smaller than most," he explained, "maybe a dozen meters on a side. On the outside it looked the same as any other: just a ball covered in frozen gas. But something must have been inside it…something inactive in the cold. The heat of my blast must have triggered something or woken something up. After I had hit, spots of light and heat appeared all over the thin shell still covering it, evaporating the gases. What lay underneath looked like some sort of rocky growth, a deformed rock pitted by scores of micrometeorite scars. I think something even older might have been inside that."

"Really? What?" asked Aithne. This story really was beginning to fascinate her.

"It started rotating," said Canderous, obviously enjoying Aithne's discomfort. "faster and faster as we watched it. After a second it started spraying fire-thermal projectiles that melted our armor like wax. We were caught completely by surprise. Before we could counterattack, it fled at an incredible speed."

"A ship!" exclaimed Aithne, in wonder.

"We couldn't catch it," lamented Canderous, "but we could follow its hyperspace wake. We followed its trail as far as we could, heading away from the galactic core. When it finally led beyond the edge of our galaxy, we abandoned our efforts. Anything that wants to commit suicide in that great void is not worth our trouble trying to catch. That's the only story I have for now," finished Canderous, gruffly, but not unkindly. "I'll tell you some more stuff later, if we get the chance."

"Thanks, Canderous," Aithne said, rising. "You've given me a lot to think about."

Maybe five days after they'd left Dantooine, Aithne started getting impatient. Finally, she decided she'd had enough. Steeling herself, she strode up to the cockpit.

"Captain Onasi?" she hazarded, voice crisp and formal.

Carth didn't look at her, but she heard him sigh wearily. "Yes, _Aithne_?" he said, stressing her name. Aithne felt her cheeks heat up.

"When are we due to arrive on Kashyyyk?"

"We should come out of hyperspace in an hour or so," he informed her. "We'll be planetside in a couple hours. About ten o' clock at night, there."

"Good," Aithne said with some satisfaction. "Will you need Bastila for the landing?"

"I shouldn't," he replied in the same totally inconsequential, dead tone Aithne herself was using.

"Thank you, Captain Onasi," Aithne said crisply, turning on her heel.

Behind her, she heard him say something she couldn't quite make out in a defeated sounding voice. She frowned. He couldn't have said, _You're welcome, beautiful_.

Aithne went in search of Bastila. Finally, she found her curled up in a corner of the conference room.

"Hey, Bastila," Aithne said, sitting next to the younger woman.

"Oh," said Bastila, surprised to be knocked out of her thoughts. "Hello, Aithne. Are you well?"

"I'm fine, Bas. Actually, I was hoping to know a little more about you. We haven't talked much since Dantooine, and even that was all about training."

Bastila looked away. "Yes. I suppose I can understand your curiosity, given the bond we share. Very well, I'll tell you a bit about myself."

"Is it incomprehensible to you that I might just want to get to know you?" asked Aithne, amused. "No, don't answer that. Tell me how you joined the Jedi."

Bastila smiled, a little wistfully. "I was found to be strong with the Force at a young age," she replied, "as most Padawans are. As a girl I was given to the Order to be trained. When I joined the Order, I left my family on Talravin, as all Padawans do. My family is still there, the last that I heard. I have had little contact with them, as it is discouraged."

Bastila looked resigned, and a little sad. Aithne was just confused. "Why in the world would the Jedi discourage that?" she demanded.

"Relationships with family members are fraught with powerful emotions," Bastila explained. Aithne clenched her jaw. She might have known. "Such extremes are to be avoided," Bastila continued, as if she was quoting a textbook. "Anger and hate are the worst, but even love can lead to folly."

"Wait. Jedi are encouraged to be compassionate, yet aren't allowed to love?" Aithne's brows were raised, and skepticism dripped from every syllable she spoke.

"Emotional entanglements can be dangerous," recited Bastila. "They can impair rational thought, they can lead to outbursts of uncontrolled emotion. A Jedi must be above such things."

"I don't buy it," said Aithne firmly. "And you don't sound too convinced yourself, Princess."

"It can be a hard lesson to learn," admitted Bastila. "I was not on good terms with all my family, but I do remember missing my father terribly for a very long time."

"Who weren't you on good terms with?" asked Aithne.

"I was not on good terms with my mother," Bastila said, her voice growing hard. "I was only a little girl when I left, but I was old enough to resent her and the way she treated my father. She pushed my father into treasure hunting. I spent all my young life on ships traveling from one false lead to the next. She whittled away my father's entire fortune, and I hated her for it."

"Hatred?" Aithne asked.

"I was not a Jedi at that time," Bastila protested. "Anyway, I think she was relieved to give me to the Jedi, but my father was heartbroken."

"And you never tried to get in touch with your father again?" asked Aithne. "I at least know you better than that. You're stubborn as anything."

"A child is too young to understand the sacrifices that must be made," said Bastila in a low voice. "It is better if children have no contact with their family once they are removed. My letters never reached my father. Once I was older, I realized the wisdom of this policy. A Jedi must do what is needed; personal desires notwithstanding. Love can only obscure and confuse the matter."

"Are you saying you no longer feel love?" asked Aithne. "It's not that easy for me," she continued. "Take Mission. I love that girl to death. She's like my sister. And she's my best friend. Canderous is like a mentor to me. Maybe the equivalent of one of your Jedi Masters. And there's a love that comes with friendship, too," Aithne finished softly, looking at Bastila.

Bastila looked away. "Nor have you been diligent in guarding your heart from romantic entanglements," she said coolly.

Aithne closed her eyes tightly. She should've seen that one coming, she thought. She started to rise.

"No, stay," Bastila said. "The entire crew knows you're head over heels for Carth Onasi. Never mind." She didn't actually seem to be in a lecturing mood. Aithne thanked the Force. "I have not had such success myself," Bastila admitted. "Even a Jedi cannot always control the feelings of the heart. We must do our best to guard against it, though," she said, seeming to regain her strength, "no matter what the cost. But some sacrifices are harder than others."

"And some sacrifices are unnecessary," retorted Aithne. "Why were you in here by yourself anyway? You weren't meditating."

"I was actually thinking about our mission," Bastila said, turning to Aithne at last. "About what lies ahead for us. It seems fate, or the Force, is driving us into a confrontation with the Dark Lord. You must prepare yourself for when we face Malak," she said, looking down again. "The confrontation will be difficult for you. I remember how hard it as when I first faced Revan."

"You would have known her, wouldn't you have?" asked Aithne. "Before Revan was the Dark Lord, and before she went off to become a war hero, you knew her, didn't you?"

"Yes," replied Bastila. "I was fifteen when she was twenty-one. She was one of the youngest Knights in history. Charismatic, powerful. I looked up to her. I was crushed when she turned to the Dark Side."

Aithne felt a rush of sympathy for the girl. "How could you kill her?" she asked.

Bastila looked directly into Aithne's eyes. "I didn't." she said.

"Wait. You didn't?" Aithne was stunned by this blow.

"It's true that, due to my Battle Meditation, I was with the Jedi strike team that boarded her ship. We did not kill Revan, however."

"But killing Revan's what you're famous for," stammered Aithne. "What happened to Revan, then?"

For some odd reason, Master Vrook's words came back to Aithne. _What if we should undertake to train this one and the Dark Lord should return? _A horrible suspicion sneaked into Aithne's brain. _Is Revan still alive?_

"Our mission was to capture Revan," said Bastila, "if possible. It was Malak who turned on his own master, firing upon Revan's ship while we were still on board it. It was his desire to kill us and his master both. Thankfully, we narrowly escaped the vessel as it exploded."

Aithne recalled the Revan vision she'd had upon first meeting Bastila. That weary, disinterested, arrogant, malevolent force. The hot anger than had flown through her as the ship's bridge had shaken beneath her feet, and Revan's knowledge of what must have happened. Yes, Malak had fired upon the ship. And Revan…if Aithne's dream were to believed, she'd gone down. Yes, she'd been dying.

"You watched her die," Aithne said, with conviction. "I know you did."

"How could you possibly know that?" asked Bastila.

"I had that vision when we first met. I saw you watch Revan die."

"How did you see it?" asked Bastila quickly. "From my perspective? Looking down at the bloodied Dark Lord as she lay helpless on the floor of her own starship?"

"No, not from your perspective," Aithne said, unwilling to say more than that. "Anyway, Malak did your job for you."

Bastila frowned. "As I said," she told Aithne carefully, "Our mission was to capture Revan alive. The Jedi do not believe in killing their prisoners. No one deserves execution, no matter what their crimes. Remember that Revan and Malak were once great Jedi, heroes in every sense of the word. They demonstrate the danger of the Dark Side to us all."

"But weren't the very qualities that turned Revan and Malak to the Dark Side what made them heroes in the first place?" Aithne began. "I mean, their impatience to see good done made them hasty. The very brilliance that made Revan the hero of the Mandalorian wars made the Republic tremble in terror before her as a Sith Lord. The very strength that Malak was renowned for as the Republic's defender makes him now just as terrible of an oppressor. Can we truly defeat the Dark Side within ourselves without ridding ourselves of our best qualities?"

Bastila was chalk white by the end of this little speech. Aithne reached out towards their link, trying to probe the girl's emotions, but Bastila flinched, and iron-solid walls encased her consciousness. "I'm sorry," she said, voice tight. "We really shouldn't speak of this anymore. The memory of my confrontation with Revan is..." she hesitated. "Painful. Please…" she waved Aithne away. "Leave me be."

"As you will," said Aithne, a little confused. However, she did leave. The roar of the engines heralded the _Ebon Hawk_'s emergence from Hyperspace. She'd explore Kashyyyk in the morning. It was late. Considerably perturbed, and just wanting to be alone herself, Aithne fell into a restless sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This is one chapter I like much, much better now that I've revised it. I've grown Aithne up a little bit, since I first wrote this. She's more cautious. She says less when she's angry, and less when she's desperate. I hope she's not quite as obnoxious as she was at times before. Anyway, Kashyyyk up! On to abolition! On to Jolee (how I DO love that old man)! Thinking I might cut the Matton sidequest, though. Sasha's staying in- she's important to Canderous' character development and to Carth and Aithne's eventual reconciliation. **

**On a side note: does anyone else feel like Zaalbar plays an inordinate amount of time in this game playing the damsel in distress? I mean- his number of capture situations equal Bastila's- and she's the love interest, if you play a male character! It's kind of funny, really. You'd expect Mission or Carth to be the two characters the most in trouble, having respectively, no super-Mandalorian strength or Force training, and no battle experience at all- but both of them are incredibly good at avoiding sticky situations, even getting you out of them! Yet there's Bastila, a superpowered Jedi Princess, captured by Vulkars and later by Malak, and there's Zaalbar, superstrong Wookiee extraordinaire, first taken by slavers then held for ransom by his brother. It's madness!**

**Anyway, May the Force be With You,**

**LMSharp**


	17. Complications on Kashyyyk

**Disclaimer: Don't own it. Nope. Still don't own it.**

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><p>Chapter Seventeen<p>

_I put aside my tools. I felt quite satisfied with myself. I activated the interface I'd just built one more time, confident that no one else could access this all-important information, not even my idiot apprentice. _

_I looked around at the maze of trees. They were so tall I could not see where their branches met their end from my position here on the floor. I couldn't say I'd be sorry to see the back of this place. Honestly, it wasn't even worth conquering. The only reason I was here at all was for the Star Map. _

_Speaking of which, I turned to see the information I'd just unlocked, committing it to memory. Datapads were far too easily seen by the wrong eyes, too easily stolen, or corrupted. I turned away; my work here was done. There was nothing for me here, and the Star Forge awaited. As I turned, I felt a slight uneasiness, like someone was watching me. I shrugged it off. Not even Malak knew where I'd found the Star Map. After that brief disagreement we'd had last week, the one where he'd ended up without a jaw, for some reason he'd been out of sorts with me. Ah well, it'd teach him to try to take over. Poor idiot. And he thought he could be Lord of the Sith._

* * *

><p>Aithne woke late in the morning, feeling sick again. Every time she had a vision of Revan it got longer and quicker. She was so very <em>human<em>. Arrogant, of course. And she'd thought of knocking Malak's jaw off like it was a matter of course. But there had been boredom, there had been brilliance, and even a slight edge of humor. Every time she had a vision of Revan, and walked behind her eyes, Revan felt a little less like a Dark Lord of a Sith, and felt a little more like a powerful, confident woman with a few issues as to how the galaxy was best to be run. Aithne shuddered, finally sitting up.

"You had another nightmare, didn't you?" asked Mission, who was stacking her Pazaak deck carefully across the room. "You were tossing and turning all night. So was Bastila. Guess you had another one of those Jedi visions, huh?"

"You could say that," Aithne said, shaking her head ruefully."I think mine are a bit creepier than Bastila's though," she said in a low voice, one Mission couldn't hear.

She pulled on some clothes she'd bought on Dantooine. A dress, of sorts. Yeah, she'd carry her lightsabers in case of trouble, but there was no need to advertise to every Czerka core-slime that she was a Jedi.

"I'd better go talk to Bastila," she grumbled. "She'll want to analyze every detail of this 'gift of the Force' and talk about what it means for my destiny."

"Yeah, well better you than me," said Mission, smiling brightly. Aithne rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue at the girl. "Oh, and Big Z wanted to talk to you about something," Mission called out as Aithne left the room.

In fact, Big Z stopped her as soon as Aithne entered the common room.

/I was checking our supplies in the cargo hold/ he grunted. /Something's not right./

/Not right?/ replied Aithne, careful as ever to honor the Wookiee in her speech. /What do you mean?/

/Someone's been into the emergency stash of food./ Zaalbar explained. /Mission and I asked everyone, but nobody knows anything about it. You might want to check out the food stores the next time you're in the cargo hold./

/I'll look into it,/ Aithne promised. /Thanks, Zaalbar./

She took her leave. She fully intended to look into it, but first she needed to talk to Bastila about her dream. Accordingly, she headed to the conference room. Bastila was there, looking a bit more complacent about the dream than Aithne felt. Aithne laughed to herself. Of course she was more complacent. She'd been an innocent observer. Aithne had been behind the eyes of the Dark Lord herself.

As Aithne entered, Bastila looked up. "The Force has given us a vision. Like the one we shared on Dantooine. Did you see it?"

"Same as before. I was right there, Bas. Right beside Revan. I felt you looking on."

"Of course. The Force is strong with us both," Bastila mused on. "Kashyyyk is a lush but simple and undeveloped world. I would not have expected to find the alien technology of a Star Map here."

"Well it's here. On the Forest Floor, it looked like."

"Hmm." Bastila looked thoughtful. "The Wookiees of Kashyyyk make their home high among the Wroshyr branches," she observed. "Only their bravest warriors dare to descend into the forbidding depths of the forest. If the Star Map is located far beneath us on the planet's surface, as our vision seems to suggest, it is unlikely the Wookiees even know of its existence. No doubt things will become more clear once we discover the Star Map's location."

Aithne was amused. "You do realize you can say that about anything, Bastila. 'Once we find what we're looking for, we'll know how to go at it.' Of course once we've discovered the Star Map's location we shall no longer be mystified about where Revan was in the vision! We'll be there!" She shook her head. "My goodness. 'Judging by the weather the past several days, it is unlikely to rain today. No doubt things will become more clear once we leave the starship and are either soaked or not.'"

By this time Bastila was thoroughly annoyed. "Are you quite finished?" she demanded, arms crossed.

Aithne appeared to think a moment. "Yeah- that about covers it for now." Bastila scowled. Aithne grinned at her. "Don't be mad, Bastila," Aithne cajoled her. "Anyway, I have to check out a supplies situation real quick, then I'll eat breakfast. Then I think I'll take Zaalbar and Mission out to scout around and see what we can find out."

Bastila looked offended. "Well if you don't want to take me…"

"Relax, Bastila." Aithne commanded. "This is Big Z's homeworld. He deserves a chance to go look around. And Mission is his best friend. I think he'd want to share this with her. Remember your rule of three? No more than a party of three on any potentially hostile planet, so that the crew doesn't get linked together in the minds of the public, and so that there's a reserve force available in case anyone gets captured or killed? I think it's still a good rule to have, what with our mission so important to the fate of the galaxy. Thank you again, for your wisdom." Aithne took on just enough of the Jedi formality to soothe Bastila's rumpled feathers, but not enough to arouse her suspicions. In all honesty, Aithne didn't care to have Bastila going around telling the Wookiees about their simple, undeveloped world.

Bastila inclined her head graciously. "I wish you luck with your scouting," she said.

Aithne went to the synthesizer and got a plate of food, taking it with her to the cargo hold. She opened the container containing the emergency supplies. Immediately, she noticed several packages had been torn, and saw crumbs scattered around the bin. No animal could have opened the container, or the packages. No. The perpetrator had to be sentient, Aithne reasoned. She also trusted that none of her crew would have lied to Zaalbar and Mission about it. Accordingly, Aithne began to go over the cargo hold, inch by inch. She located a locked panel, probably used for smuggling. She assumed there were others around, and tested all of the panels surrounding.

Finally she found a panel that fell easily when she tugged at it. A compartment was revealed, large enough to fit a small adult or a child. A worn blanket that had once been blue, but now was more of a brownish off-white, was neatly folded into the bottom of the compartment. Two empty packages of food lay about it.

Aithne heard a clinking sound behind her. Aithne whirled around, and caught sight of a young girl, maybe eight years old, eating the food she'd left behind on top of the emergency supplies container. She ate ravenously, and no wonder. She was skinny, unhealthily so. Her hair might have been blonde, had it not been so full of dust, mud, and- Aithne thought- old dried blood. As soon as she saw Aithne, however, the child's eyes went wide. She made for the door, but Aithne beat her to it.

The girl fell to her knees and began crying and babbling a very strange mixture of Basic and Mandalorian. It made no grammatical or linguistic sense. Aithne wondered what the girl could possibly be saying, until she noticed a faded bruise on the girl's left arm.

"Hey, kid," she said, keeping her voice gentle, "Stand up. Don't cry. I'm not going to hurt you." She held up her hands in the universal gesture saying "I mean no harm."

The girl stopped crying almost immediately. She looked up at Aithne curiously. She asked in her strange way if Aithne was sure if she wouldn't hurt her. Aithne nodded, then slowly and carefully lifted the child to her feet.

"What's your name, kid?"

The girl stared up at her blankly.

Aithne lifted her hand to indicate herself. "I'm Aithne," she said. She indicated the girl. "Who are you?"

The girl let it be understood that her name was Sasha.

It took ages of charades and very simple questions, but Aithne eventually got the entire story from the strange little stowaway. Her name was Sasha. She'd been kidnapped from her home on Dantooine maybe three years ago by Mandalorian raiders. They'd treated her badly, from the looks of things, except for a couple of their women, who'd taught Sasha a little Mandalorian, and given her treats when the men weren't around. Several days ago, Sasha had managed to escape and hide on the _Ebon Hawk_. It was a safe place, and she'd heard Aithne sing sometimes at night. She liked it. Aithne blushed at this point. Her singing at odd hours got her into lots of trouble with the crew. Sasha liked the sound of T3's beeping, and of Mission and Zaalbar laughing together over Pazaak. Sometimes she snuck out and watched the crew from the shadows. The _Ebon Hawk_ was her home now, she said, quite firmly. She didn't want to leave.

Aithne however, wasn't having it. Taking a 14 year old street urchin- well used to guns and taking care of herself- on a dangerous quest was one thing. Taking an eight year old runaway hostage was quite another. She would have to dispose of Sasha in some way or another. It could not be done at the time, she reasoned. Kashyyyk was no place to leave a human girl. No. Aithne determined that the girl should be returned to Dantooine. Maybe her relatives could be found. And if not, the child would be brought up by the Jedi. Maybe not to be one of the Order, but they never turned away those in need. After telling Sasha she need not hide any longer, she called the crew to the conference room.

"Hey, guys, we got a little crew member for a few days."

She brought forward Sasha from behind her. "This is Sasha. She's an escaped hostage from the Mandalorian traitor camps I disbanded back on Dantooine. She snuck on board. I think she has family still on Dantooine. After we find the Star Map here on Kashyyyk, Captain Onasi," she said, nodding to Carth, "we will return to the Enclave and see what may be done about her. While she is here," she said, addressing the entire crew, "I expect her to be well taken care of. Make sure she is fed and welcomed. Especially you, Canderous."

Canderous scowled. "What? Am I to take charge of the brat? Why?" He narrowed his eyes, looking mutinous.

Aithne held his gaze. "Yeah. You're to take charge of her. She speaks a really odd mixture of Mandalorian and Basic, and you'll understand her better than anyone else." That wasn't going to cut it, and Aithne knew it. She squared her stance. "This girl has the entirely wrong idea of your people. She has been among traitors, robbed and kidnapped by cowards who attacked a family that could scarcely fight back. They have brutalized and neglected her, dishonoring themselves and their families. What honor did they gain in beating one who could not hope to retaliate? If Sasha is allowed to grow thinking that all Mandalorians are so cowardly, then how much further shall your race be dishonored? No. Teach her to honor your people for their strength, not revile them for their bullying cowardice. This is my charge to you."

She kept her words formal, and her gaze firm. She knew what was at stake here. So far, Canderous had been a willing associate. A partner. She had just given him a command, setting herself up as a surrogate chieftain, and challenged his honor in the bargain. Now everything must change between them. He would either fight her, or submit, putting himself under her authority. The entire crew was silent, watching them. Aithne saw Carth's hands stray towards his holsters, and Juhani's eyes were hard. Aithne held up a hand towards them, and kept her eyes on Canderous. At first, she thought he would fight her. Sasha was trembling. But then his eyes flicked to Sasha, and back to her. She felt something shift, and suddenly, Canderous laughed.

"You're a brave one, Morrigan," he said. "Stupid, maybe, but brave." He bowed, half in mockery, half in genuine respect. "So shall it be." Then he turned to the girl behind Aithne.

/Come on out, girl,/ he said in his native tongue. /It's all right, now./

Hesitantly, Sasha came out, eying Canderous with curiosity. She asked him, as she had asked Aithne, whether or not he was going to hit her.

Canderous spoke with an unexpected gentleness to the girl, explaining how unfortunately, his chieftain had forbidden him to hit little girls, but he would be happy instead to teach her how to build a blaster. Sasha stared at him with grave blue eyes for a moment, and finally smiled. Canderous led her from the room.

Aithne looked after him for a moment. She wondered if on the occasions when Canderous Ordo had not been on the front lines of some battle, he and his unheard of skills had been considered valuable in the teaching of young Mandalores. He didn't seem like someone that hadn't ever dealt with children before.

* * *

><p>MISSION POV<p>

Everyone was staring at Aithne. Seriously, the lady got more unbelievably awesome by the minute, Mission thought. That was Canderous Ordo. _The _Canderous Ordo. Mission had heard the stories about him, down in the Lower City back on Taris. She'd gone out of her way to avoid the battle-scarred merc, along with just about everybody else. He was bad news. And Aithne'd just stared him down and gotten him to agree to babysit some scared kid. Carth and Juhani hadn't had to lift a finger, though Mission knew the pair of them had been ready to. Mission wondered why the Jedi hadn't sent Aithne head to head against Malak, instead of on this weirdo quest for the Star Thingys. She thought Aithne might do some interesting things if you put her in front of an army

Aithne broke the awed silence. "Scout party for Kashyyyk," she announced abruptly. "Grab your packs, Zaalbar, Mission. Are you ready to go?" Mission blinked. She hadn't been expecting that, honestly. Mission knew quite clearly where she fit in on board the _Hawk_. She was the person Aithne called when she needed someone to sneak around, or to disable mines. Not when there was important stuff to find out. Not when Aithne didn't know what situation they were walking into. Big Z made sense as a choice for the scout party; it was his home world, after all. But Mission had assumed that Aithne would choose either Carth or Bastila for her other companion. Still, she wasn't about to complain.

"Big Z's homeworld? Am I ever!" she cried.

Five minutes later, Zaalbar, Aithne, and Mission emerged from the _Ebon Hawk_. Moisture almost instantly collected on Mission's skin, and the chattering of tachs and the squealing of distant kinrath could be heard among the trees. Mission looked up. It was weird- they were standing on this platform- so crazy high she couldn't see what was even on the forest floor, but the sun still wasn't making it through the branches up above.

"This is so cool," Mission muttered. Just then, though, a Czerka officer came up and started hounding them to pay a tax to compensate for the unscheduled docking of the _Hawk_. Mission glared at them. Czerka. Everybody knew about those core-slimes. Czerka was an enormous conglomerate that was well known throughout the galaxy for high prices and sketchy morals. They were one of the number one suppliers of slavers in the galaxy, and indiscriminate in their dealings with Sith and Republic alike. Big Z had started shaking; he hated Czerka with a passion, Mission knew. And there was another reason to hate Czerka for her, Mission thought. Lena'd said Griff was working in their mines on Tatooine. Czerka had taken her brother from her.

Aithne was looking disgusted, too. But the effect of her contemptuous lip curl, Mission thought, was greatly reduced by her frizzy halo. The moisture on Kashyyyk had worked its mischief on Aithne's already difficult hair. Curls were escaping her tight bun right and left. They stuck up in every direction. Mission coughed to avoid laughing, feeling absurdly grateful for her own smooth blue lekku.

Fortunately, Aithne's hair troubles had no effect on her Force abilities. She wheedled them easily out of paying Czerka's tax, and sent him off about his business. Mission looked about the platform again, realizing the whole thing was Czerka-controlled. She tensed. Just a few feet away, a group of about five Wookiees were being loaded onto a ship in chains, growling their defiance. What kind of planet was this? Mission remembered Carth on Taris. _There are better worlds than Taris; there are worse, too_. She frowned. Was this what he had been talking about?

/Kashyyyk, my home,/ growled Big Z, more nearly ironic than Mission had ever heard him sound before. /I should have prepared you for coming here,/ he added to Aithne, /But I don't know if I've prepared myself./

Aithne was instantly on the alert. Mission felt her snap to wariness. /What would you need to prepare me for?/ she asked.

/I didn't leave voluntarily,/ Zaalbar admitted. He addressed his words to Aithne, his life-debt, and the leader of their scouting party, but he also looked at Mission nervously. /Mission must have told you how I was fleeing slavers …but there was more. I am an exile. The slavers on Kashyyyk only took me after I was forced to leave my village home, twenty years ago./

_An exile? _Mission thought. She would have spoken to her friend, but Aithne held up a hand. /Why were you forced to leave?/

/My brother made deals with the slavers and allowed them to get a foothold,/ Zaalbar told them. /I found out and attacked him. The fight was stopped, but my father did not believe me when I told him about my brother's actions. I was made an exile, disowned by my home and people. I should not be here. They will not accept me back./

"Big Z, that's terrible!" exclaimed Mission. "Why in the galaxy didn't your father believe you?"

Zaalbar stared off into the distance, his face lined with guilt and care. /When I attacked my brother I was so mad…I used my claws./

/Mad-claw…/ breathed Aithne in amazement. Zaalbar bowed his head with shame.

Mission didn't understand. "So you used your claws. What's the big deal?"

/You don't understand what that means to a Wookiee, Mission,/ said Zaalbar, anguished. /Our claws are tools, not weapons. To use them in battle is to become an animal. It is madness without honor. I am forever a mad-claw in the eyes of my people. Nothing I say is to be trusted. They were right to cast me out./

Mission frowned. "That seems a little harsh, Big Z. I mean, doesn't everyone lose it sometimes? And you had plenty reason. Right, Aithne?" She glanced at Aithne, looking for support. Big Z was really upset; Aithne would know what to say. But the woman's eyes were grave, her face serious.

/Time has passed,/ she offered lamely at last. /Maybe things have changed?/

/The slavers are still here,/ replied Zaalbar, shaking his shaggy head. /This dock is theirs. I doubt anyone has risen to try and fight. Nothing has changed. I just hope I can prove myself to my people. It will be difficult to make them listen. I just don't know./

Aithne placed a tentative hand on the giant's shoulder. /We'll deal with it when we have to, Zaalbar, and I'll help you if I can. Let's go./

/I don't have much hope,/ replied Zaalbar, following. His steps were heavy with the weight of his worry.

Mission moved so she was walking a little closer to Zaalbar. "There's always hope, Big Z," she said quietly. "You 'n' me and Aithne'll fix it; you'll see."

Zaalbar growled softly- whether in affirmation or disagreement or just appreciation, Mission couldn't tell. Presently, Aithne said, /We should try to get to the Shadowlands. According to my vision, the Star Map is located there./

Zaalbar hesitated a moment, shifting his weight nervously. /I will take you to my village,/ he said. /They will have guides there who can take you, if I am welcome. And regardless, I think they will let me attend you there. Wookiees die in the Shadowlands all the time./ His words were bleak.

/Very well,/ Aithne replied. /Lead on, my friend,/

The corners of the Wookiees mouth lifted ever so slightly at her words. Mission frowned. "You're not gonna die, Big Z," she told him severely.

When they reached the gate, Aithne flashed the gate guard her pass, and the company left the docking area to roam about the walkways of Kashyyyk.

One thing about traveling around with Aithne, Mission reflected, was that she was never likely to want for a bit of excitement again. Sometimes it seemed as if the lady got attacked every three steps. Anyway, there was about five kinrath waiting to attack just outside the gate. Mission got one right in its multiple beady eyes, and shot a leg out from under another, but those were about the only shots she got in. That was another thing about going out with a Wookiee and a Jedi- however dangerous things got, Mission herself wasn't ever in much danger. It was sometimes a little annoying, she thought. Sometimes she didn't feel like she was doing her fair share. Other times she suspected darkly that Aithne and Zaalbar were deliberately protecting her. She'd felt that way at the Sith base. And down in the sewers on Taris, only that time, Carth had been in on the plot, too. She wasn't some kid. She could do her share! Mission sighed, resolving not to mention it. It wasn't like she was in a hurry to die, either.

Anyway, the kinrath skirmish served to put Zaalbar in a better mood. He took in a deep breath. /Can you sense it?/ he asked Aithne and Mission. /The wind…the sound…the smells. I feel it all now that we are away from the spaceport. This walkway is new, probably built by the slavers, but I remember the trees. My village is not far from here./

Mission was impressed. This was positively verbose for Big Z. Aithne didn't go on about the beauty of Kashyyyk, though. /Which way?/ she asked practically. Zaalbar pointed a massive shaggy claw off to the west.

/It has been so long since I left,/ he said. /I do not know what we may find there. I only know the way things were, and many things may have changed. I must warn you of one thing. I don't know if I will be a help or a hindrance to you here. My father was very powerful…a chieftain./

Mission raised an eyebrow, sizing up her big friend. How many new things she was learning about him, today! "Woah. So Big Z, you're like a prince?"

/A disgraced and dishonored one, but yes, Mission. I was like a prince. Perhaps my father's feelings have mellowed, but if my brother has had his ear all this time, I may be very unwelcome./

Aithne sighed. /Why can't anything ever be easy?/ She asked rhetorically. Zaalbar stiffened, but Aithne shook her head. /No, Zaalbar, it's not your fault. We'll deal with it all when the time comes. Chin up./

/I am dreading it nonetheless,/ Zaalbar said. /My shame was meant to be forgotten on some far away world. I never thought I'd come back. I'm sorry, I've taken enough of your time. We should press on./

Just a few hundred feet down the path, however, they ran into more problems. Three very nervous looking Czerka stood around a dead Wookiee, still bleeding.

As they came within earshot, one of the officers said, "This isn't good. I can't afford this."

One of his companions gestured angrily at the dead Wookiee. "You think I can? You know what they get for a healthy one of these things?"

The third, who looked to Mission like he was in charge, noticed them. "We'll work it out later," he whispered. "We've got company." He turned to Aithne, who led the party, stepping in front of the Wookiee corpse.

"What do you want, spacer?" he greeted her. "I'm Patrol Captain Dehno and you're interrupting Czerka Corporation business."

"My name is Aithne Morrigan. With me are my companions Zaalbar and Mission Vao. What happened here?"

"This Wookiee slave got a little…rebellious," the Czerka Captain explained, shifting his weight nervously. "We had to put it down." Mission pressed her lips together.

But Zaalbar roared in indignation. /You put it down? We're not animals!/

Aithne turned to Zaalbar hastily. "Zaalbar, let me handle this," she said in Basic. Mission wondered about the switch for a moment, before she realized that she wanted the Czerka men to know she wasn't looking for a fight.

/But their disregard for the life of this Wookiee is too much!/ protested Zaalbar.

/Yes, it is/ agreed Aithne in Shyriiwook. "But I have asked you to let me handle this. Honor my request." She finished in Basic.

Zaalbar nodded, calmer now. /I will do so. For your sake, not theirs./

"Careful now," said one of the none-too bright patrollers. "That growl sounded pretty threatening. Keep your slave on its leash or we'll have another accident."

Aithne's cheeks flooded with angry color. Mission was proud of her; she hated Zaalbar to be called a slave, too. But Captain Dehno cut in. "Just shut up, you trigger-happy idiot," he told his patroller tersely.

"Do your superiors approve of you killing Wookiees?" asked Aithne conversationally, crossing her arms casually. The tone caught Mission's attention. It was too casual, too controlled. She shifted, making her blasters more easily accessible.

"No of course they don't," answered Captain Dehno, confused. Then suspicion hardened in his face. "Why would you ask me that? Are you doing some sort of snap inspection? You're trying to get me to admit to incompetence, aren't you? Not going to happen," he spat. "I stand by my patrol. This Wookiee got out of hand and _had_ to be put down. We'll find another easy enough."

Aithne's face went hard. "Not today, you won't," she said. She loosened her sabers in her belt. "Not today, not ever. I won't allow you enslave or kill another Wookiee."

Zaalbar roared in agreement. Mission wasn't sure how she felt. These three were murderers, obviously. But was it really up to them to take 'em out? But for sure Czerka, even if they told them, wouldn't bring the men to all the justice they deserved for murdering this Wookiee. To Czerka, the Wookiee was just a slave.

Captain Dehno was getting angry. "Is that a joke?" he demanded. "Who do you think you are?"

"Get out now, before you get into trouble," warned Aithne, activating her lightsabers.

"What are you trying to get away with here?" demanded Captain Dehno. "You can't just walk up and start making all sorts of demands!" He turned to his men, drawing his blaster. "I think this troublemaker needs an accident," he said, nodding viciously at Aithne. "In fact, I think this Wookiee attacked this fool and we arrived just a little too late to help."

Now it was different, Mission realized. Now these murderers wanted to kill them. She drew her blasters, analyzing the stances of the Czerka men.

One wasn't quite sure about this. "Uh, Captain?" he ventured. "We have blasters. Don't Wookiees use those bowcaster things?"

"Would you just shut up and shoot?" snapped Captain Dehno.

Aithne muttered something, and then she was all over them. Mission didn't know what had happened. One moment, Aithne had been beside her, the next she was upon the slavers. Mission looked on, horror-struck. The only word she could think of to describe what Aithne was doing was butchery. She took them apart as Mission and Zaalbar watched.

It was over in a matter of seconds. Aithne whirled. Her eyebrows were knit together in a fierce glare. Her eyes flashed golden. Her muscles were tense. There was a smell of burnt, cauterized flesh.

Mission stared for a moment. "Sometimes you scare me," she said. Her voice shook.

Aithne looked down at the three mangled Czerka, and her glare melted right off her face, leaving her drained and dangerously pale. Her knees buckled, and Zaalbar moved to support her.

One thing was clear to Mission. Aithne hadn't meant to do what she had just done. She had lost it- Zaalbar might call it going 'mad-claw'.

Face still pale, Aithne stood shakily. She took in a deep breath. "Mission, I scare myself," she admitted in a whisper. She looked first at Mission, then at Zaalbar. "Neither of you tell Bastila about that, okay? Or Juhani."

Zaalbar nodded. Mission didn't say anything. Why would Aithne want them to hide something from the other two Jedi? A suspicion sprang up in her mind. Aithne had lost control. But to what?

They started walking forward, and Mission finally voiced what was on her mind.

"That? Back there? That was the Dark Side, wasn't it?"

Aithne's face twisted. She looked miserable, guilty, and afraid, but she looked Mission dead in the eyes. "Yes, Mission," she said. "That was the Dark Side."

Mission shuddered, and swallowed. But Aithne felt bad about it, right? She wouldn't do it again? Hesitantly, she reached out, and squeezed Aithne's shoulder.

There were a few kinrath on the path, and two tubs of unguarded supplies. At any rate, eventually Zaalbar looked up and said, /My village is very near now. Follow me./

But when they turned the corner they were stopped. Three men stood on the path: men in gray uniforms with black hoods. They were talking, but when they caught sight of Aithne, their eyes narrowed, and they grinned in satisfaction. Three scarlet blades slid out of their Sith lightsabers. Mission swallowed.

"Lord Malak was most displeased when he learned you had escaped Taris alive," the middle one told Aithne. "He has promised a great reward to whoever destroys you!"

Aithne was quiet for a moment. Mission kept one eye on the Sith, and one on Aithne, waiting for her signal. Aithne's green lightsabers slid out with a hiss, but Aithne didn't attack. "C'mon," she said reasonably. "What's one Jedi brat to you?" She waved her hand in the air. "Let me go. Just this once."

Mission realized that Aithne was trying to avoid a fight, after that last bit of butchery. But it didn't work. "You fool!" cried one of the men. "You think such petty tricks will save you from destruction?" He leapt at Aithne.

Zaalbar rushed forward to engage him. Aithne took up her stance. "Your funeral," she said quietly. Mission shivered at the cold tone. As Aithne engaged the second one, Mission fired at the third. A lightsaber came flying in an arc at her in return, and Mission ducked in a surge of adrenaline and pure reflex, and fired again.

The Sith were fast, and deadly, fueled by their anger and hate, but Aithne was fast and Zaalbar was strong, and Mission didn't know but that her shooting kept them confused. Most of the time they were able to block her shots with a lightsaber flick, but Mission was distinctly proud of herself when she got under one's defense and shot him through the head. Anyway, in a few minutes, it was over and done with.

Zaalbar had been grazed on the leg, but now that Aithne was a Jedi that didn't pose too much of a problem. It left Aithne pale and shaking, but she managed to cure him. Mission stopped to go through the Sith corpses. One of them was carrying a datapad. She looked at it, and frowned. It was a wanted message from Darth Malak himself. Wanted: Dead or Alive. Reward. Three faces were shown there. Mission didn't think much of Bastila's. Of course Malak wanted Bastila captured and alive, or dead before she could help the Republic. It was the other two that made Mission stare. Carth and Aithne? Who were they to Mr. Supreme Dark Lord? It only made sense if he somehow had learned the two of them were helping Bastila. But how in the galaxy would he figure that out? And, Mission thought, if he knew about Carth and Aithne, did he know about the rest of them? And if he did, then why were Carth and Aithne the important ones? A shiver ran down Mission's back. She tossed the datapad to Aithne.

"Check it out," she told Aithne.

Aithne looked the datapad over. She was already weary from curing Zaalbar. Now her pale face fell into lines of worry, too. But she said nothing about the datapad. She merely tucked it into her pack, and said, "Let's move on."

In less than a minute, a giant wicker gate came into view.

/Rwookrrorro. My home./ said Zaalbar. Mission and the others moved to enter the village.

Suddenly, a guard moved out from the shadows. He held up a massive furry paw. /Stop where you are, outsider/ he growled. /You enter the domain of Chuundar, chieftain and leader./

Zaalbar looked distressed, but he stood taller. Big Z was bigger than the guard, Mission thought proudly. /Stand aside!/ he bellowed. /This human is with me and I want access to the home of my people!/

/You have no right here, mad-claw!/ snarled the guard. /This human should not have brought this taint upon our land! You must answer to Chuundar!/

With that the guard blew a tiny, curiously carved whistle.

/Hey!/ growled Aithne in Shyriiwook. /Zaalbar is no taint!/

/Shut up!/ retorted the guard. To Zaalbar he said, /you are nameless with dishonor, mad-claw! Yours is a foulness that disgusts me! Enough talk!/ He said, as two burly Wookiees exited the village. /You and the outcast mad-claw will be taken to Chuundar now!/

Mission watched in horror as the two new guards forced Zaalbar's paws behind his back, and marched him into the village. She and Aithne attempted to follow, but the guard stopped them both. /The others will take charge of the mad-claw/ he dictated. /You two will come with me to see the mighty Chuundar!/

Mission strained against the paw of the big Wookiee, desperate to get after her best friend, but it was about as useless as arm wrestling Big Z. Aithne put her hand on Mission's shoulder.

"Calm down, Mish," said Aithne in a low voice. "Let's do what they say for now. We'll figure this out."

Mission blinked back tears as Big Z was led away from her again, but she relaxed. She was permitted to withdraw from the big guard and draw closer to Aithne, and she did so. Aithne, pale, trembling, but stone-faced, grabbed her hand, and together, the two of them were led to the mighty Chuundar, chieftain and leader, Zaalbar's traitorous, slaving brother.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Mission's actually kind of tricky to write, though she's one of my favorite NPCs. I have to keep her sounding perceptive, nail down everything that's going on, but she still has to sound like a streetwise teenager. It's quite a different voice from Aithne's- which I generate, after all- or from Carth's, who is by far the easiest character to relate to, or Bastila's, which is so distinctive it's hard to get it wrong. I'm not quite sure I managed it. I hope you're still enjoying my story. Review!**

**May the Force be With You,**

**LMSharp**


	18. The Crazy Old Man in the Dangerous Woods

**Disclaimer: You know the drill, peoples. KotOR is still not mine. Oh, the agony.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Eighteen<p>

The Wookiee guard made Aithne and Mission walk along a meandering path to a grandiose lodge set in the heights of Kashyyyk's wroshyr trees. He stayed at their back the entire time, but they were permitted to enter the lodge unfettered, and their weapons had not been taken from them. Aithne hoped that she might use this to her advantage, but stayed her hand for the meantime. The inside of the lodge was well-lit and expensively paneled. Aithne located Zaalbar at once. He stood in the corner. His paws were tied behind his back, but he was otherwise unharmed as far as Aithne could see. Czerka guards were stationed here and there around the enormous common-room. Near the center stood a blonde Wookiee with a heavy golden chain draped about his shoulders. He clearly meant to cut an impressive figure, but Aithne couldn't help noticing that he was several centimeters shorter than Zaalbar, and much thinner and less muscular. She sniffed. So this was Chuundar.

/Step forward and address mighty and wise Chuundar, outsider/ the Wookiee chieftain called out to Aithne, referring to himself in the third person in a manner particularly irritating. /I don't often allow visitors of your kind./

/You are flanked by Czerka slavers,/ growled Zaalbar angrily. /Are they not outsiders? Or have you sold all of Kashyyyk to them?/

Aithne beamed in approval. Chuundar rounded on his brother, rage on his face for a brief moment. But he reigned it in, and forced a laugh. /Ah, brother Zaalbar,/ he said condescendingly. /You've been exiled a long time. You shouldn't speak in that tone. Things are different now. You are a mad-claw without honor. You have no voice among your own people. I, on the other hand, am Chieftain./

/Excuse me,/ said Aithne, /but how does that change the fact that you're selling your own people into slavery? Unless you're lying to them. Is that what this is? A palace of lies? My compliments, Chuundar,/ she spat.

Chuundar bared his teeth in a hideous semblance of a grin. /You may talk/ he offered, /but no one will believe you. I've had a long time to guide what my people think. They trust me, the mighty Chuundar. Even with my brother insane and father enslaved, I rose to protect my people despite it all./

Mission spat a Twi'leki curse. "Language, Mission!" Aithne reprimanded her. /Not that I don't entirely agree,/ she added in Twi'leki.

/Father was enslaved?/ Zaalbar asked, looking confused. /"Mighty Chuundar"? What are you talking about? You were the runt!/

Chuundar turned on his brother, and stamped his massive furry foot. /I am no runt!/ he roared, sounding incredibly like a toddler. He cleared his throat, apparently embarrassed, and turned back to Aithne. /Like I said, Zaalbar, a lot has changed in your years away. We will discuss this soon enough./

Aithne relaxed a bit. Chuundar didn't seem to want to kill them all, at least. She had yet to fathom his actual game, however. Why capture Zaalbar, instead of just sending him away or killing him? Why demand to see Aithne and Mission? /Skip the pleasantries/ Aithne said, as lightly as she could in Shyriiwook. /What do you want?/

/I haven't killed Zaalbar because he is my brother, and I hoped he and I could come to an agreement,/ explained Chuundar. /You are irrelevant. However, I may be able to put you to use on a menial task. Zaalbar will have to stay here, of course./

Aithne grimaced. So that was it. Chuundar had a job for her. Disgusting, probably life-threatening. He really didn't care that Zaalbar was home, but as soon as he had seen Zaalbar's angry, armed friend he had figured he could use his brother for leverage against Aithne. And he was going to, until Aithne completed his disgusting, probably life-threatening 'menial task'.

/So you're holding Zaalbar hostage until I do something for you. Okay. Spill. What do you want?/

/A simple thing,/ oozed Chuundar in a tone meaning it was anything but. /Another Wookiee has suffered the same fate as Zaalbar, gone mad and been exiled. He now lurks the Shadowlands. More importantly, he's pestering my Czerka allies during their Shadowland expeditions. It is not good for business./

/Ok,/ said Aithne acidly, /So one Wookiee besides my friend Zaalbar here got fed up with you and your slaving, and now he's annoying you. Standing against you. The first of many, perhaps?/

Chuundar laughed outright. /Brother Zaalbar, I confess I understand why you follow this woman. She's madder than you, to try to provoke me here!/ He turned back to Aithne. /No one will follow a mad-claw. He is merely a nuisance. Besides, he cowers in the Shadowlands. My people know nothing of him./

_But he's a threat, _thought Aithne, filing the information away for future reference. She looked at Zaalbar and weighed her options. She could fight, but two Wookiees and a Czerka guard stood watch over Zaalbar. Aithne looked around the room. There were more of them. She and Mission were grossly outnumbered. Fighting would be a very bad idea. This conclusion angered her. She was going to have to play along.

/You want me to get rid of him, you runty slaving buffoon?/ Her arms fell helplessly to her sides. /I'll consider it./

Chuundar smiled smugly. /I'll allow you access to the Shadowlands,/ he promised. /You will track and kill this insane Wookiee, and maybe then you will earn my favor. Zaalbar stays here to insure your loyalty. The Czerka would never let me hold you, but they don't care what I do with fellow Wookiees./

Mission looked close to tears. Aithne put on an innocent expression, deciding to try something else. /Ah, but mighty Chuundar, I need Zaalbar with me as a guide./

Chuundar's face hardened. /No, my clever friend, you won't need him to find your way. Over the years I've had my people trained to understand galactic Basic. I tell them it's to better understand the enemy. They think it will make the Czerka easier to fight. Actually, it makes them easier to obey./

Aithne clenched her fists, and they twitched involuntarily towards her lightsaber. This guy was just asking for a smack down! But Chuundar saw the movement.

He held up a single claw, and every weapon in the room leveled at Aithne and Mission. /Remember,/ he said in a low, silky growl. /You can't beat me here. No one would dare to oppose me to join with an outsider or an exile./

Aithne nodded, unclenching her fists. But Zaalbar spoke. /You are wrong, brother. Someone would./

Aithne locked onto her friend's words. /Who do you mean, Big Z?/

/Do you speak of Freyyr, our father?/ asked Chuundar coldly. /Why? He was the one that ordered you exiled when you attacked me. He went as mad as you when he finally discovered the slavers. He dared challenge them alone and has not been seen since. That was years ago. Let him go, Zaalbar. I rule now. I'll take the Wookiees forward, but there are prices to pay./

Aithne looked at the expensive paneling, at Chuundar's jewelry. She sneered, thinking how much more valuable and good Wookiee children running free would be. /Don't listen to him, Zaalbar,/ she instructed firmly. /His price is not worth paying./

Chuundar snarled. /No more words, outsider! I have given my orders. I can't hold you here, but Zaalbar will stay until you kill the mad-claw in the Shadowlands./

Mission looked Zaalbar in the face. "Don't worry, buddy," she said, in a clear, confident, ringing tone. "We'll get you out of here! You can count on us!"

Chuundar held up another claw. The guard at Mission and Aithne's back stood down. /The guards will let you pass now,/ he said. /Leave the village through the northwest and follow the platform to the south and then east. You'll eventually see where Gorwooken waits for you. He'll lower you to the forest floor. Go./

Aithne sneered. She wasn't the sneering type, but Chuundar deserved it. "C'mon, Mish," she said in Basic in a low voice. "Let's go talk about what we're going to do."

To Zaalbar she said loudly, /We'll be back soon. Tomorrow night at the absolute latest. Hang on, Big Z, we'll get you out of this./

Zaalbar growled a farewell.

Aithne and Mission walked out of Chuundar's lodge, and sat down on a nearby bench.

"What _are_ we going to do, Aithne?" Mission asked in a low voice. "We can't just leave Big Z,"

"But nor can we aid his scumbag brother, I know," Aithne said. "I'm thinking." She sat there, head in her hands, brow contorted, for a few moments.

"It seems inevitable that we'll have to go down to the Shadowlands. The Star Map's down there, and so is Chuundar's enemy," Aithne said. Mission nodded, following her thus far. "We might be able to work together with Chuundar's enemy to rescue Zaalbar and oust Chuundar, but I don't know how we'll manage it. And we'll need help. The Shadowlands are really dangerous. No security to speak of, but lots and lots of monsters that attack on sight. Like rhakghouls, only bigger."

She looked at Mission, sizing her up. Mission looked down. "I'm gonna have to go back to the _Hawk_, huh?"

"I think so," Aithne said regretfully.

"It's ok. I know I'm your best slicer and security man, but I'm not your best fighter. You're gonna need to call Carth or Canderous, you know?"

"Canderous," Aithne said automatically.

Mission looked straight at Aithne. "You're still avoiding him, aren't you?" She bit her lip, obviously torn between sympathy and worry for Zaalbar. "Look, Aithne," she said finally, "You're gonna have to talk to him eventually; we've got a long way to go still, you know? You two have to be able to work together." She shrugged. "You'll have to talk to him to give 'em the heads-up at the _Ebon Hawk_, anyway. He made sure we all had com-links before we left Dantooine, but I think the only ones active right now are ours, Big Z's, and Carth's. He's weird like that."

Aithne sighed. Mission was right. "Whatever," she muttered, pulling out her com-link.

* * *

><p>CARTH POV<p>

Carth was eating lunch when his com-link buzzed. Aithne's voice rang out. "Aithne Morrigan to the _Ebon Hawk_. Come in, Captain Onasi."

Carth sat up immediately and hit the connect button. In the communicator window, Aithne was sitting beside Mission in some tree someplace, her hair more frizz than anything else, and a scowl on her face. "This is Carth," said the same. "What's happened?"

"Big Z's doing the damsel in distress thing again," Aithne reported. "His slaving brother Chuundar is the Chieftain, and is holding Zaalbar hostage until I do some of his dirty work. I need to go down to the Shadowlands. Now."

Of all the reports to get, Carth thought, this wasn't exactly the best. "Are you and Mission alright?" he asked.

Aithne zoomed in on Mission, and the Twi'lek waved dismally. "We're both fine," Aithne said. "Chuundar hasn't hurt us or Zaalbar. But I want you to send Canderous, Juhani, and Bastila up here right away. Just tell them to go straight northwest from the spaceport. Follow the walkway. When they get here, I'll send Juhani and Mission back to you, Teethree, and Sasha. The Walkway's too dangerous for anyone to go it alone. I'll go into the Shadowlands with Canderous and Bastila and figure out the next step."

Carth frowned. "What about Sasha?"

"What about her?" Aithne repeated, confused.

"Canderous is looking out for her. None of the rest of us speaks the language, and I assume you don't want Sasha in the Shadowlands?"

On the screen, Aithne's expression grew still more sour. Mission leaned in and said something to her. Carth waited.

Aithne closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her teeth, hissing. "Fine," she growled at last. "Fine. Carth- leave Canderous at the _Hawk_ with that kid. You come out instead. I need the help."

"There! You happy?" she hissed at Mission.

Carth was relieved. She'd have to break now. He smiled at her. "Look, Aithne, I know we've been on the outs, but we have to work together here. You said it yourself."

"Don't you dare quote my own words back at me, you wart on a Hutt's backside!" Aithne snapped.

Carth laughed aloud. One thing he'd noticed about the silent treatment- once it was broken, the anger never lasted long. Aithne's eyes flashed, but Carth said, "Good to have you back, beautiful," he replied.

"Whatever," Aithne spat at him. "At least change before you come. Your flight jacket will blind me when I need to see the kinrath." Carth laughed again.

"Sure, Aithne," he said. "We'll be there in half an hour. Onasi over and out."

Carth almost whistled as he took off to find Bastila. Sure, Zaalbar was captured and they still hadn't found the Star Map, but damn it! Aithne was going to have to talk to him again. He knew he'd messed up in that conversation back when they'd left Dantooine. It wasn't that he thought Aithne was conspiring to join the Sith, exactly- at least, he didn't think that anymore. But she was just so powerful, so charismatic, so influential. And the Jedi hadn't trained her worth a half-credit! What if she fell to the Dark Side? Why did the Jedi think this big risk was worth it? He should've said it better- it wasn't actually her he had been angry with at all, really. If anything, he was worried about her. But she'd taken it all wrong and avoided him ever since. He'd missed her sense of humor. Even missed her irritating persistence in asking personal questions. But now she'd have to talk to him, and they could hash things out.

Bastila was with Juhani in the storage room. Carth tapped on the door frame. "Get your packs," he said shortly. "Aithne needs us." To both Jedi's credit, they obeyed immediately, without too many questions.

The path proved as straightforward as Aithne had claimed, though a couple kinrath attacked once. They reached the Wookiee village without too much difficulty. Aithne and Mission were seated on barrels outside of some sort of lodge. Mission bounded up. "Hey," she said. "You 'n' me are supposed to go back, Juhani, while these others figure out a way to save Big Z. You will, won't you?" she asked Carth and Bastila.

"We will do our very best," Bastila told the girl.

Aithne stalked up then. She nodded at Juhani and Mission curtly, and motioned Carth and Bastila to follow her. Mission looked exasperated, and Juhani a little hurt, but the Jedi said, "Come, Mission."

"Sure, Juhani," Mission said. "Um- bye, Aithne."

Aithne didn't answer. She merely started walking. Bastila followed her, walking quickly to keep pace. "Are you unwell?" she asked. Aithne rolled her eyes, and Carth snorted. For a Jedi, Bastila was very oblivious sometimes. Aithne cut Carth a quick glance beneath her eyelashes.

"You could call it that," she said finally.

She was acting like a child, Carth thought angrily. Honestly, couldn't the woman just get over it? "You could," he added in a dark tone. Bastila looked at Aithne penetratingly, but Aithne whirled around on her in an instant. She stuck her finger in Bastila's face.

"Stay out of my head, Bastila," she growled. "If you have something to talk to me about, then just spit it out like a normal person. Unless you've forgotten how to do normal. Maybe it's beneath you."

Bastila looked as if Aithne had slapped her, and Carth decided that was enough. He grabbed Aithne's arm, and swung her around and back a few feet, holding up a hand to keep Bastila from following.

"Listen here, sister," he whispered, staring at her. "You have a problem with me, fine. I won't fight whatever you deem it appropriate to put me through. It stays between us, though. Bastila didn't deserve that. Just like Mission and Juhani didn't deserve that send-off you gave them just now. Pull it together, soldier. That's an order."

For a moment, Carth thought Aithne was going to hit him. She was spitting mad. But then, suddenly, her face collapsed. She winced, and her cheeks flooded with embarrassment. "Oh, Force," she said. "I've been worse than Bastila after the rescue."

Carth looked at her, vaguely surprised she was listening to him. She was silent a moment. Then she looked back up at him, calm. "Carth, you hurt me, last time we talked. So I got angry. I didn't want to talk to you. And now that I have to, I'm angry all over again. But that's no excuse for the way I've been behaving; you're right. I'll apologize to Bastila now, and when the three of us save Zaalbar and return to the Ebon Hawk, I'll make sure to make up my rudeness to Juhani and Mission." She nodded shortly, then sighed, and gave an odd, twisted, little half smile. Carth saw the anger that she'd had towards him the past several days leave her face all at once, but he liked what took its place even less.

"As long as I'm apologizing, Carth," she said in a low tone. "I'm sorry I got angry at you in the first place. I'm sorry I've been acting the way I have since. The whole thing was my fault, really. I knew you were a messed up paranoid head case I should avoid all emotional involvement with way back on Taris." She sighed. "That hasn't stopped me. I'm so much more the fool, then. Sorry." She gave that twisted little smile again, and gently extricated her arm from Carth's. He saw her walk to Bastila and begin talking to the Jedi in a low voice.

_Oh, no,_ Carth thought. _Oh, Force, no_. He'd been thinking that in the conversation a few days ago he had merely insulted her- but what she was vaguely hinting at now went much deeper. There had been times he'd thought that Aithne might be getting the wrong idea- that the two of them might be exchanging mixed signals, somehow. Now he knew he was right. There had been women before that had tried to get close to him, after Telos. But he had never let them get close enough that they had gotten hurt when things didn't go anywhere. And he had never cared when those women had walked away, giving him up for good.

Had he somehow let Aithne get too close? He had told her more than he ever usually told anyone about his past. She had been so stubborn. He looked at her, and admitted to himself that he'd begun to enjoy her company. He looked for her around the _Hawk_, and anticipated her smart aleck remarks when she dealt with idiocy. He'd begun to expect her presence at his back whenever he fired a blaster. Yes, Carth thought, he'd definitely let Aithne Morrigan get too close. And now she'd realized that things weren't going anywhere, and she'd gotten hurt.

But was he prepared to let her go? To let her walk away? Was he prepared to go through the mission as Aithne Morrigan's pilot: a cool and distant Captain Onasi? Carth rebelled at the thought. He'd gotten used to her friendship, he realized. He frowned. Nor could he forget the way she'd felt in his arms at the Sith party on Taris, or in the cockpit of the _Ebon Hawk_ back on Dantooine, when this beautiful, strong woman had clung to him for support.

One thing was clear to Carth Onasi. He needed to make things right with Aithne. Soon. But not now. Now she needed to focus on figuring out a way to rescue Zaalbar without forwarding Chuundar's cause. There would be time for apologies later, he thought. Anyway, up ahead, Carth could hear Aithne fighting with Bastila again over the nature of the Dark Side. They'd obviously made up.

"Ha!" Aithne cried triumphantly. "You, too, Bas! I knew you weren't always a goody two-saber! "

"I am no more impervious to the temptations of the Dark Side than any other," Bastila sniffed. And then she was back to lecturing about Aithne's strong Force sensitivity and how she had to beware of her volatile emotions, as she lacked Bastila's years of training. Aithne made faces at Carth throughout the whole long speech as the three walked down a different walkway, immediately schooling her face into an expression of dutiful and unwavering attention whenever the younger woman looked at her. Carth was hard pressed to keep from laughing, or from pointing out Aithne's disrespect to Bastila, just to see how indignant she would get. Aithne was really something else.

They ran into three Wookiees on the path being attacked by kinrath once. Aithne immediately came to their aid. They saved the Wookiees, but were mistaken for Czerka slavers and insulted.

"The Republic really does need to do something about Czerka," Aithne remarked to the others as they jogged onward.

"Czerka Corporation is too big to be policed by the Republic," Carth replied wearily. "They regulate themselves. Not very well, I might add. I'm sure the Republic does what it can."

"In a way," speculated Aithne, "I don't really blame Revan and Malak for trying to take over the Republic. It has some definite problems. And there's nothing like a threatening dictator to incite social reform."

Bastila blanched, but didn't speak. Carth couldn't stay silent.

"The Republic is a fundamentally good institution," he argued.

"You don't deny that it has problems, though," Aithne rejoined.

Carth thought for a moment. "I can't honestly," he admitted ruefully. "But I can and do deny that it needs to be taken over."

Aithne smiled. "I don't think it needs to be taken over. Just _nearly_ taken over. If we take a couple more months to defeat Malak, everything will take care of itself."

"What do you mean?" Bastila asked.

"Those government senators will start to wonder how so many people joined Malak. They'll start to wonder why," Aithne explained. "This process of questioning will necessarily lead them to some of the fundamental issues the Republic is dealing with. Driven by a terrible fear lest the Republic ever be threatened again in such a way, the government will make certain changes. They will make changes for the better, to improve the standard of living throughout the galaxy. In a way, conquest, or near-conquest, breeds reform."

"I see what you mean," Carth said, "but I still hardly think it's necessary. Surely the Republic can be repaired without such drastic measures."

Aithne smiled, but didn't say anything. Carth wondered, again, just how much she was on the side of the Republic.

* * *

><p>AITHNE POV<p>

They arrived shortly at some primitive sort of elevator. A young Wookiee with lustrous, nearly black fur stood beside it.

/Gorwooken, I presume?/ asked Aithne.

/Aithne Morrigan,/ replied the elevator-manning Wookiee. /Chuundar told me you'd be coming, Outsider. Consider yourself blessed. Your feet in the Shadowlands is an insult./

/Yeah, yeah. I'm an Outsider, I'm human, you think I'm slaving scum. Are we done with the preliminaries now? Just get us down in that thing./

Gorwooken curled his lip in disgust, but he did as Aithne requested. The ride down to the Shadowlands was long. The elevator descended meter after meter until it had gone maybe a couple of kilometers down. As Aithne looked up, she could not make out where the trees ended, and the sun was only a distant memory. A gray, sullen sort of light filtered down through the trees, and everything was cast into shadow. Aithne heard beasts scuttling in the undergrowth, and here and there, she saw enormous kinrath webs. Finally, the basket elevator touched bottom. In the distance, Aithne heard a fire crackling.

/Is that a good thing?/ she asked Gorwooken. /That fire?/

Gorwooken laughed mirthlessly, his fangs flashing in the darkness. /Anything that made a fire down here isn't a Wookiee. So you have slaving scum, or worse. Good luck, Aithne Morrigan. Welcome to the Shadowlands./

He faded into the shadows, his Wookiee coat making him near impossible to see in the near darkness. Carth swore under his breath.

"Shall we head towards the sound then?" Aithne asked.

"Why?" Bastila asked. "That Wookiee just said anything with a fire was probably our enemy. Why would we go towards them?"

"No, she's right," Carth said. "Better to locate them now and find out whether we can't talk to them than to wait around until they attack at their leisure. Who knows, they might be able to help us."

Aithne nodded, and quietly, the three friends made their way across the forest floor. In a couple of feet, Aithne came into view of the campfire. There were a few packs slung around it on the forest floor, and three figures, too. Surprisingly enough considering Gorwooken's words, two of them were Wookiees. They didn't look like Chuundar's folk though. Aithne noted they carried Exchange issue weaponry. Their claws were dull, not sharp from extensive tree climbing. These were Wookiees of the thug variety. Spying the third figure, Aithne's jaw set. It seemed like the mystery of Malak's knowledge of her was solved, for the most part.

She stepped into the light of the campfire. "Calo Nord," she said. "What are you doing here?"

Calo turned to face them, the firelight glinting off his goggles. "Aithne Morrigan," he said. "Bastila Shan." He nodded to each of them in turn. "I have to give you credit," he said. "You've led me on quite a chase. But nobody gets away from Calo Nord in the end. You got lucky on Taris; the Sith saved you from a quick and gruesome death. But I promise you, the Sith won't be getting in my way this time."

"Last time I saw you, you were buried beneath several kilograms of rubble," Aithne observed coolly. "Why the unfortunate survival? Did the Sith help you to escape? Perhaps you are now so certain they won't interfere because you are in fact acting on Malak's orders?" A lot made sense now, Aithne thought. Calo must have worked with the Sith- and probably with Saul Karath, she thought- to discover something of what she'd been up to and who she'd been up to it with. Thus the death order. As she thought of this, though, she smiled savagely. "Yeah, Malak doesn't expect you to survive this," she informed Calo. "We intercepted a general death order from a team of Dark Jedi earlier today. So I'm going to give you an option here. Leave now. Or die like they did."

Calo smiled regretfully. "See, I'm almost sorry to kill you, Morrigan," he said. "You're a challenge. Really, more fun than I've had in years. But it's show time."

Bastila, who'd been merely awaiting the moment, ignited her saber and sprang upon one of Calo's Wookiee companions. Aithne herself leapt at the other. Carth ran up behind Aithne, covering Calo Nord with his double blasters.

The fight was long, and difficult. Aithne hadn't wanted to avoid a fight with Calo Nord back on Taris for nothing. Being a Jedi helped things, but only a little. First there were the Wookiees to take care of- and though they were strong, taking them down was relatively easy compared to the challenge of dodging Calo's blaster bolts. Once they were down, there was Calo himself to deal with. He was easier now- Carth, Aithne and Bastila were still unharmed, his companions were dead, and he was angry. The three of them were putting up more of a fight than Calo Nord had probably had to deal with since he'd first started as a bounty hunter. In his anger, he grew somewhat careless.

But because of that, Aithne herself got a little overconfident. Calo dodged a bolt from Carth's blaster and Aithne swooped in around for the kill before he could bring his blaster back up. But Calo's dodge had brought him close to his boot. At the last second, he retrieved a short, razor sharp knife from it. Aithne, already caught up in the momentum of her swing, didn't have time to dodge as the knife swooped towards her heart- and she wasn't wearing armor or shield. Suddenly, a shoulder knocked her to the ground. The knife, robbed of its initial target, plunged into the side of Padawan Bastila Shan. Bastila fell. Aithne rolled, came up on one knee, and with a thrust of her two lightsabers brought the famed bounty hunter down in darkness.

She turned to Bastila immediately. Blood welled up from Bastila's side. The Jedi's eyelashes fluttered. "Is it over?" she said in a strained voice. Aithne nodded, kneeling beside her.

"You idiot," hissed Aithne, removing the knife from Bastila's side. "Whatever possessed you to do that?" She examined Bastila's injury. The injury was deep, but narrow, and Calo had missed any vital organs.

"Onasi," she snapped. "Get me a medpac." Carth tossed her one of the first aid kits they carried around with them at all times. Aithne gave Bastila the vital kolto shot, rolling up the girl's tunic to bandage the wound. As she wrapped Bastila's side, she focused with the Force, imagining Bastila's insides knitting themselves together, the skin growing over the injury, Bastila healthy once more.

Color flooded back into Bastila's face, and her eyes focused on Aithne. "Stop, Aithne. You will expend too much energy," she said, grabbing Aithne's arm and wincing as she pulled herself up into a sitting position. Aithne stopped, breathing heavily. The Force was strong here- this was a place full of life. But Bastila's wound was the biggest she had ever attempted to cure.

Bastila thought a moment. "With what you've done, I should be fine in two standard hours."

"Good," snapped Aithne. "I don't like it when Jedi princesses take knives for me." She squeezed Bastila's shoulder, looking at the blood that still stained Bastila's tunic.

Bastila smiled. "I will be fine, Aithne. Stop worrying."

Bastila climbed slowly to her feet. Aithne helped her to stand. Aithne began to lecture her about her stupidity, giving her the standard _you shouldn't have, _and _you could've just come around and cut his hand off, _and _I don't want your death on that conscience you don't think I have. _She meant it, but her head wasn't in it. Instead, she was thinking about why Bastila had saved her life- why she'd jumped in front of that knife. Bastila couldn't have had any idea that the knife would deal her a painful, but essentially harmless stroke. And for all intents and purposes, Bastila's life was worth more than Aithne's to the war effort, what with the Battle Meditation and all, as Carth had told her _several _times. What had possessed the girl? Aithne asked her about twelve different ways, but the Jedi's face remained guarded, and she did not respond. Aithne knew she should be grateful- but there were walls erected around Bastila's mind, and Aithne couldn't entirely suppress the suspicion that Bastila hadn't been as stupid as she was accusing her of being, that there had been a very good reason for what she had done, a reason Bastila wasn't going to share with her.

Finally, Aithne's Force Cure had had enough of an effect on Bastila that the three travelers were ready to move forward again. Almost immediately they were beset by a group of katarn. The great hulking beasts were slow and clumsy, but they were extremely aggressive, and stronger than Wookiees. Carth and Aithne attacked frontally, while Bastila hurled Force attacks at the beasts from behind. But as the last katarn fell, and Aithne and Bastila deactivated their lightsabers, the sound of lightsaber clash and humming still rang out in the dimness of the Shadowlands.

"More of Malak's drones, you think?" Bastila said, panting a little. "You did mention you ran into them earlier."

"Down in this pit?" scoffed Aithne. But she motioned for the others to follow her, and they set out in pursuit of an ominous noise for the second time that day.

This time, the sight that greeted them was even weirder than a bunch of Exchange goons in wait for them. A lightsaber, as green as Aithne's own, flashed out in the darkness. No fewer than four katarn beset a man. He was maybe an inch taller than Bastila, a couple inches shorter than Aithne. Human. But this human man, this Jedi Consular fighting four katarn all alone, looked to be nearly seventy years old. But for all that, his shoulders were broad and powerful, and as for the fight with the four katarn? He was winning.

The man moved with lightning speed. The blows with which he assaulted the katarn were both skillful and forceful. Aithne was not surprised when seconds later, the four katarn were down, and the old man Jedi was hardly even breathing heavily.

"C'mon," she whispered to the others, moving forward and keeping her hand near her lightsabers. A stick cracked beneath Carth's foot, and the man's head snapped around.

At first, he brought up his lightsaber to the defense position, but once he caught sight of them, he smiled. "Ah, the damnable racket of battle!" he lamented in a rough baritone. "Watch yourself," he instructed, gesturing to the dead katarn surrounding him. "There are even more of these crawling beasts in the underbrush."

Aithne was a bit taken aback. Not a Wookiee, not a Sith, not a Czerka, who was this old Jedi guy? "Thanks for the heads up," she hazarded at last. For a moment, she was lost for words. "I'm sorry," she said finally. "Who are you?"

The man reattached his lightsaber to his belt, and held out a strong, calloused, wrinkled hand for her to shake. "I'm Jolee," he replied. "Jolee Bindo. Follow me to my camp and we'll talk a bit."

He seemed friendly, at least, Aithne thought. It was a treat to meet someone so hospitable in a place as inhospitable as the Kashyyyk Shadowlands. But- "You're camping down here?" she demanded. "For goodness' sake, why? What are you doing down here?"

"Why am I here?" repeated the man. "Hmph! Well it isn't because I like the stink of dead katarn. Let's move this talk to my camp, if you please. The air is better. Keep close. It's nearby, under a log." Jolee began to move off. He shot her an ironic look over his shoulder. "Yeah, I live like some burrowing rodent. I fought the Sith…now look at me. Hmph!"

He jogged off, motioning for Aithne to follow. Aithne thought for about a second, and then ran after him. The other two ran after her.

"We're actually following this guy?" Carth asked as they jogged.

"I guess we are," Aithne replied. "He's making me curious. Besides, he says he used to fight the Sith. And he hasn't tried to kill us, which automatically makes him better than practically anything else down here. Just- come on."

"Do we have to go off chasing gizka every time you get curious?" Carth grumbled, with no real anger.

"Yes. So shut up!" Aithne shot back.

Eventually the three arrived at the old man's camp site. "Camp" was somewhat of an understatement. And the "log" the old Jedi lived under was about the size of a warship. In fact, Aithne would go so far as to call it a house. The log was long and low- a great piece of a fallen trunk that the Jedi had carved out and built up into a rugged sort of residence. Cheerful light blinked from the windows.

Jolee stood at the door. "Well don't be all day about it," he grumped. "Come in, already. Welcome to my home, such as it is."

He led them inside. The furniture all seemed to be carved right out of the log. Everything was very minimalist. Pieces of what looked like a starship were hung up on the walls. An earth pit was hollowed out near one end of the house, and it looked like that was where the old man cooked his meals, as a chimney grew out of the ceiling above it. Stashed in the corner was a bed, made and pressed, but it smelled like the mattress had been stuffed with leaves. In fact, the entire house smelled of forest and wood fires. It was not an unpleasant smell, but it was very different. Jolee had obviously lived here for some time.

"Pull up a stump and be comfortable," the old Jedi suggested. "We should discuss a few things."

"Should we?" Aithne pressed, still standing. She had no objections to talking to the man, like she had told Carth, but there was only so far curiosity would take her. She had things to do. "No offense, Jolee, but I don't have much time."

Jolee smirked. "You'll have nothing but time if you don't take what help you can," he pointed out. "I've been here for many years. I know things. Remember that. My days of glory are behind me, but…perhaps there is something I can do for you. You must have questions."

Aithne sighed, a little exasperated. This hermit was acting like he knew all about her and what she was up to. Nevertheless, she sat on a small bench near the fire pit while Jolee made up the fire. Carth and Bastila sat next to her. "You say you know things?" she said, a bit testily. "Fine. I'm Aithne Morrigan. This is Bastila Shan and Carth Onasi. We're strangers here, and we don't know anything. Particularly about you. You can start by informing us about yourself."

Jolee sat across from the three on a wicker chair as the fire began to crackle. "Ah, what is there to tell?" he said, crossing his arms. "Jolee Bindo is the crazy old man in the dangerous woods. I'm content with the impression I give."

It certainly was, Aithne thought, realizing the man was going to be stubborn. He had an agenda. Whether she'd like it or not remained to be seen. Whether or not she'd like him remained to be seen, though the Force was pressing on her that this man would be important to her somehow. She felt already like she was going to like him a lot or want to kill him. She crossed her own arms, giving him stare for stare. "A crazy old man in the dangerous woods, maybe. But pardon me if I think there's a little more to the story. You did mention something about fighting the Sith, you see."

"Did I?" said Jolee mildly. "You have annoyingly good ears. It doesn't matter. Those days are gone. Leave them in their graves."He let Aithne infer what she wanted to about where he'd been- how he'd gotten his lightsaber or received his training. Instead, he turned over his lightsaber in his hand, looking at it with dark eyes that contained a look similar to Carth's look of loss and self hatred at times. Aithne shot the pilot a glance. He hadn't noticed the resemblance. "I've seen my share of the dark and the light," continued Jolee in a musing tone, his eyes reaching up to catch Bastila's. "And frankly, both extremes annoy me. Of course, I have felt the rumblings of change…" here he trailed off, and his gaze swerved to Aithne, sharp and intelligent, undimmed by age. Aithne quickly employed the Force to scan the man's aura. It was the oddest aura she'd ever seen. Almost as much power as Bastila. A Consular, like herself, but there was nothing in the aura to denote any Light side or Dark side affiliation. Bitterness swirled there, and loneliness, but no hatred. Understanding, acceptance, but no charity or generosity.

"If you're quite finished?" Jolee said.

Bastila had been doing much the same as Aithne. "I can feel the power of the Force within you, old man," she said, almost accusingly. "But I do not see the taint of the Dark Side. I think you are a servant of the Light, despite what you claim."

Aithne rounded on Bastila, annoyed by her extremism. "Honestly, Bas! Does it have to be one way or the other?" she snapped.

Jolee chuckled. "I can see why that might annoy you, Aithne Morrigan. A bit of a temper, eh?"

Aithne looked away, while Carth chuckled.

"As for you, young lady, I can assure you I see more grey than dark or light. I'm just a stubborn old man, tired of the foolishness of others."

Jolee looked down now, and as the firelight flickered on his face he looked well over one hundred years old. One hundred years of sorrow and struggle. He wasn't telling her much, but Aithne took a leap of faith and decided to trust him.

"Ok. Fine," she said. "What do you know about problems on Kashyyyk?" she asked him.

Jolee smiled. "Yes, among the Wookiees. Intriguing creatures. I like that they have little patience for bureaucrats. But of course, even here there are hidden things that manipulate."

He rose a bushy grey eyebrow and stared at Aithne. Aithne grinned. "Oh, yeah? Like Chuundar, huh? What do you know about him?"

Jolee smiled mysteriously. "Czerka Corporation was smart to put him in power," he said. "He's as good at destroying Wookiee culture as dropping corpses full of Ardroxian Flu. Will you work for him or against him, I wonder. I'll be interested to see."

Aithne was thoroughly irritated by now. "Will you stop that?" she demanded. "Those cryptic half-statements. Can you just tell me what I need to know? Then we can get out of your hair and you can get back to whatever you do down here." Jolee regarded her with an amused expression, and Aithne took a deep breath. "Fine. Sorry. Please, have you seen a crazed Wookiee down here somewhere?"

Jolee nodded. "Maddened with grief, perhaps," he qualified, "But not crazed. I helped him pass to the lower forests where only a Wookiee could follow. Some other matters will determine if you can follow. There is a barrier that…well, we'll talk more of _that_ in a moment."

He was very closely managing the conversation, Aithne realized, providing help, but only on his terms. There was something very specific he wanted to help her with. "What do you want me to ask you, old man?" she said bluntly. Then she froze. Her eyes found his. "Wait. Do you know anything about Star Maps?"

Jolee bowed from his seat. It was rather odd to witness, actually. "Now why would you be asking about that, hmmm? Don't answer. I knew that had to be why you were here. The problems of a few Wookiees don't amount to anything before the concerns of the Jedi. No, you are here for the map."

So he did know things, Aithne conceded. Still, his deliberate drawing out of the answers she needed was maddening. "Listen here, Jolee," she growled. "I have to find that Wookiee down here in the Shadowlands, because Chuundar's got my friend, and meanwhile I have to make sure that when I do, I can work out some way to get Chuundar to give me my friend without helping him or Czerka in any way. If that wasn't enough- I really _do_ need to find that Map. Now. I know you probably haven't talked to anyone in ages, but please don't waste my time. If you have any information that could help me, please tell me. It could end up saving the galaxy!"

Jolee laughed. He outright laughed. "Dramatic much, kid?" he asked.

Aithne wanted to shout, but then she played her own words back in her head. She sounded like Carth. Reluctantly, she smiled. "Ok. Yeah. But do you know anything?"

Jolee leaned back in his chair. "Kashyyyk is an interesting place," he said. "More so than anyone suspects. If Czerka Corporation knew, heh, the planet would be a strip mine. The Wookiees have their legends that they were not always here, but it is more than that. The trees themselves are strangers."

Aithne decided that was enough. She considered briefly what she knew of this man, then smirked. "Do you have any idea how much this cryptic talk recalls the Jedi Masters to my mind?" she asked him.

Jolee made a face.

"Uh-huh," Aithne said. "So be up front. _What do you mean_?"

Jolee sighed. "What I'm saying is that there are literally walls in your way, and you won't find what you need without my help. And my help has a price. You must do a task for me, and then allow me to join with you. I will then remove certain barriers in your path."

Aithne was quiet a moment. So that was it. Drive her mad with curiosity, keep things on his terms, and then join up with her. That was Jolee's plan. Still, at least she had an answer. "You could've just said that, you know. Without all the roundabout and duck-the-question." She pursed her lips. "Couldn't I just pay you to help me?" she asked. "For once, I wouldn't mind _not_ jumping through _any_ hoops."

Carth nodded in fervent agreement.

"Oh, save it," Jolee said, waving Aithne's annoyance away. "I know this sounds absurd, but I'm old and entitled to work you around a bit. Besides, the test is simple. Since they began expanding in the Shadowlands, the Czerka have left me alone for the most part. Until recently, anyway. A group of them set up camp not far from her. Poachers is all they are. I'd like them removed from this place."

Aithne blinked. The test was simple. She thought. It could even prove to be quite enjoyable. A chance to go postal on some slavers? She was in. And then he'd help her. It was a pretty good deal. But he was asking more than that. She inclined her head briefly, and Bastila started to protest. But Aithne beat her to it. "Look, Jolee," she said, "I have no problem booting some slaving poachers off your front lawn, such as it is. But why do you want to join up with us?"

Jolee shrugged. "You presumably have a ship," he said. "I've seen all I wish to here. Isn't that enough? I mean, I'm really sick of the trees."

Aithne looked at him over the fire. That wasn't good enough. She knew it. And Jolee knew she knew it. He shifted a bit in his seat. "And perhaps your destiny might show me something new. You never know."

Aithne could tell Jolee wasn't telling her everything. She could also tell she wasn't getting anything else out of him for now. Maybe he'd be more communicative after she'd helped him out. "Fine. Where are these unwelcome guests? How many of them are there?"

Jolee grinned. "They are not that far northeast of here. There are usually five in the area, as far as I can see. The Captain of the lot is the one that earned my ire. Mishandle my garden, will he? Hmph!"

Aithne smiled. Jolee sounded just like her grandfather. With that, she nodded again, taking another leap of faith. She rose, and extended her hand to the old, rugged Jedi. "Bindo, you got yourself a deal," she said. Carth and Bastila rose as well.

"Good," Jolee said, walking the three travelers to the door. "Return to me here and we will see how you have done. Shoo! Shoo!"

Laughing, Aithne left with the others. Just outside of Jolee's house, she nearly ran into Bastila and Carth, who were both standing side by side, crossing their arms, and glaring at her.

"Do some people not like the idea of Jolee coming along?" Aithne hazarded, taking a step back.

"We don't know anything about him!" Carth exploded. "He was more stubborn about answering a question than I am, for crying out loud! How do we know he's not Malak's plant? He could be waiting to find out our mission and then turn on us."

Aithne snorted."First of all, Malak's not that brilliant," she said. "I've never met the guy myself, but he seems like a guy more interested in brute force than tactics and deception." She sniffed. "Actually, Malak seems like a bit of an idiot."

"Malak's idiocy aside," said Bastila, "we still need to keep our mission a secret from him! I sense no deception, no ill-intent from this Jolee, but the fewer people we keep with us, the less attention we shall draw! We draw enough attention with the pack of misfits we carry around now!"

"Hey!" Aithne snapped, needled. "Every single one of that 'pack of misfits' is a friend of mine! Don't insult them, if you please. I think Jolee will fit in fine."

Carth and Bastila still looked uncertain. Aithne held her ground. "Jolee's coming," she said, in a tone of finality. "You'll get used to it. I bet some the crew will even like him. Bastila, you get along with Teethree and Carth, even though you had a rough introduction to our little crew. Zaalbar and Canderous are actually friends, now. I think Jolee will be at least as likeable as you and Canderous, Bas!"

"I am much more likeable than…than that brute!" protested Bastila.

Carth coughed. Snorted. Aithne pounded his back, and he was able to look up, though his eyes were watering. "Of course you are, Bastila," he said, in a tone of sparkling insincerity. Bastila, however, seemed to buy it. "Look, it's your mission, Aithne," Carth said. "If you want to trust him…"

"I do," Aithne cut in. Carth nodded.

"I still must question your judgment in this instance, Aithne," Bastila said gravely.

"Question all you like," Aithne said cheerily. "But in all honesty, do try to like him, Bas. He- he's different. A bit annoying. But I think _I'm _going to like him."

"As you will," Bastila sniffed, lips thin and white with displeasure.

"Come on," Aithne said, walking around Carth and Bastila to take the lead again. "Let's go kick the slavers off Jolee's turf."

"Guess we'd better," sighed Carth.

They set off in the direction Jolee had pointed them in, and it wasn't too long before Aithne spotted the Czerka campfires through the trees. She paused for a second. She couldn't just waltz right up, tell them the whole complicated story about how she needed them gone so Jolee would help her find the Star Map so she could find the Star Forge so she could defeat Darth Malak and save the galaxy. Nor did she exactly want to leap out, shout that they were slaver scum, and start chopping with her lightsaber. What was to be her approach?

A Czerka officer dragged a bunch of dead tachs into the camp. Aithne clenched her fists. Tachs were utterly inoffensive primate type creatures, but a gland of theirs was very valuable in certain medicines, as well as in different specialty liquors. The mass slaughter of them, while profitable for Czerka, was probably messing up the ecosystem down here quite a bit. Noting some sonic emitters, Aithne grinned evilly. With tachs running low, the big predators down here would be looking for alternative dinners. It struck Aithne with a sort of poetic justice that she should provide these dinners.

"Shhh," she shushed Carth and Bastila, "Stay here."

Creeping in the shadows, using them for cover, Aithne snuck up next to a sonic emitter, stepping out of the shadows right next to the guard.

"Greetings," she said, striking up a conversation with the guard. Of course, he nearly shot her right at first. He was jumpy from too long in the Shadowlands. Aithne held up her hands inoffensively, gesturing that she meant no harm, though of course she did. With a few well-placed words and an undercurrent of Force Persuasion, Aithne was easily able to convince the guard to allow her to shut down the emitter he was guarding. Not surprisingly, he wanted out just as much as Aithne wanted him out. Shadowlands duty wasn't exactly prime placement. Aithne snuck around to the other side of the Czerka camp and repeated her performance with another guard at another emitter. Judging that to be about right, Aithne slunk back to where Carth and Bastila awaited her in the shadows.

"Now what?" Bastila hissed.

"Now, we wait." Aithne said, with some satisfaction.

They didn't have to wait long. In a mere twenty minutes, a bone-chilling roar rang out through the camp. A massive creature, bigger than the rancor beast Aithne had encountered in the Tarisian sewers, lumbered into the clearing where the Czerka had their camp. It was a dull, sickly yellow shade, with spikes that dripped poison running down its back and tail. Its claws extended nearly a foot from its massive hands, and serrated tusks protruded from its mouth.

Aithne froze. She'd thought it would be a katarn. Maybe a group of kinrath. She hadn't expected anything like this. Master Dorak's apprentice back on Dantooine had described such a creature once. This could only be the terentatek. A Jedi-killer. The terentatek fed on the Force, and hunted Force users to extinction. The terentatek was a creature of the Dark Side, created to hunt Jedi.

Aithne reached out beside her and gripped Bastila's forearm. "Don't move," she said, as quietly as she could. "Don't even breathe. And whatever you do, don't reach out to the Force!"

Bastila flicked her eyes to Aithne to show she understood. The Czerka down in the camp ran every which direction from the monster, but one guard was too slow. The terentatek, with uncanny swiftness, pounced upon the unfortunate watchman. Aithne was forced to watch as the beast clubbed the man down with its tail. Its claws sliced the man open like paper, and the mighty beast knelt to the steaming corpse to eat. Aithne closed her eyes from the horror of it all, fighting off the fear rising inside.

Aithne opened her eyes as the beast snorted. She saw the terentatek raise its head, fangs dripping. Its green eyes, more intelligent than any animal she'd seen, surveyed the darkness. Aithne had to will herself to stay absolutely still as the monster's gaze swept right past the place where she and her companions crouched fearfully. Its nostrils sniffed the air. After a moment that seemed to last an eternity, it lumbered off into the distance, towards the deeper forest, and Aithne could breathe again.

"Let's go," she said, her voice shaking a bit.

"I think that would be a very good idea," agreed Bastila with a shiver.

In silence, the three companions made their way back to Jolee's house. Aithne knocked at the door. In a few seconds, it opened. Jolee smiled, ushering the three of them inside.

"Welcome back. I wonder, have you had much luck? Have you done as I asked?"

Aithne shivered. "The Czerka are gone. I don't think they'll be back."

"They'd have to be stupider than _her_ if they did come back," remarked Carth.

Jolee smirked. "Yes, I could feel it as you walked near. And I don't sense the smell of death on you. You spared them." He cocked an eyebrow. "Interesting."

Aithne laughed darkly, a humorless, dry sound. "Killing them would have been a waste of time and energy. Three of them got away. That monster didn't leave much of the fourth."

"No matter," chuckled Jolee. "Well done. Incredibly creative as well, I might add."

"Will you help us find the Star Maps now?" Aithne asked.

"Yes," replied the old Jedi, "I know the old paths to get there. You probably wouldn't have found them on your own. There's also a Czerka repulsor field blocking the way, past the poacher camp in the East. I saw it when it was installed, so I know how to pass it. And on the other side," he smiled in anticipation. "Ancient answers. And perhaps a Wookiee you were seeking. I hope he's in the mood for visitors. But we can't go tonight. Only an idiot would travel the Shadowlands after nightfall. You and your companions may rest here for the night."

"We thank you for your hospitality, Jolee," said Bastila stiffly.

"Bah, save it," grumped Jolee, ladling out a tasty smelling stew into four separate wooden bowls. "Have something to eat. You must be hungry. Besides, you're going to be putting up with this old hermit for a long time. At least until _she_ saves the galaxy," he said, jerking his thumb at Aithne. "It's the least I could do."

He handed each of the travelers a bowl of the stew. Aithne and her companions fell to immediately. The stew was delicious, and Jolee's house was warm and bright. The Shadowlands loomed outside, but for now Aithne allowed herself to forget it, and to feel safe.

"This is incredible," raved Carth, after the first couple steaming bites. "How'd you make it?"

Aithne saw Jolee's eye glinting. "Um, Carth?" she said, swallowing a mouthful. "I'm guessing we don't want to know. Thanks, Jolee."

Jolee chuckled. "You're welcome, lass. You too, sonny."

The old Jedi finished his supper and retired to the corner where he actually had pulled out what appeared to be three thirty year old starship mattresses, similar to the mattresses in the _Ebon Hawk_ barracks.

After Aithne and Bastila washed up at a clever little sink Jolee had rigged up, the three companions went and sat on the low mattresses.

"So what's your story, lass?" asked Jolee, as Aithne settled down wearily.

"Oh, you know. My ship crashed. Guessing you know all about that, from what I see here."

Jolee chuckled. "You don't miss a trick, do you, lass? Yeah- I crashed. Years ago, now. But go on."

Aithne yawned. "Republic here and I were on a ship escorting the Jedi Princess someplace I can't remember. The Sith attacked. Shot us down. You know the drill. We all got separated. Carth and I crash-landed on Taris. He saved my life."

"It was nothing," said Carth automatically.

"My life is something," retorted Aithne. Carth had no reply. He smiled a bit. Jolee watched them silently.

"Anyway," Aithne continued. "We had a lot of nasty adventures. We met up with a teenaged Twi'lek street urchin and saved her Wookiee best friend. The Wookiee, Zaalbar, swore me a lifedebt. That's the one Chuundar's got, Jolee. He seems to get himself captured a lot for a Wookiee, now I think of it. Anyway, both of them vowed to follow me around forever. Go figure, huh? I made a deal with a gang, and by some truly awesome swoop racing saved Bastila here from a life of slavery."

"You did not save me!" protested Bastila huffily. Aithne decided it was more for the principle of the thing than anything else. She grinned at Bastila.

"Yeah, whatever stops the tears, princess. We made a deal with a Mandalorian merc, raided the Sith military base, and stole a freighter from the local crime lord just in time to escape the Sith destruction of Taris."

Jolee tensed. "The Sith have destroyed Taris?" he asked sharply.

"Among other planets," Carth said, expression dark.

"Yes," said Aithne, uncharacteristically serious. "It was awful. Everyone Mission knew (that's the Twi'lek, Jolee) was killed. Anyway, we escaped to Dantooine, and the Jedi Council practically forced me into becoming a Jedi for reasons they never fully disclosed."

Carth frowned. Bastila looked away. Aithne continued.

"After Bastila and I started having freaky mutual dreams about the Dark Lord Revan, of all people, the Council sent us to explore some ruins. We found out about these Star Maps, ancient Dark Side artifacts that lead to the Star Forge, a weapon of unknown function and untold power currently in Malak's possession. Our mission is to find the Star Forge and find some way to bring it down in a wild hope to cripple Malak's effort to take over the Republic."

"But no pressure," laughed Jolee.

"That's _exactly_ what she said," laughed Carth. Aithne scowled, but as she felt the presence of Bastila behind her, and Jolee across the cabin, and looked into Carth's eyes just a few feet away, she couldn't maintain any anger.

She _was_ safe, for now. And warm. She was among friends. And strangely, she felt home.

* * *

><p><strong>My regards and thanks to those who read this. Double thanks if you leave a review.<strong>

**May the Force be With You,**

**LMSharp **


	19. The Wookiee Abolition Movement

**Disclaimer: **_**Aithne: Must we go through this meaningless charade every time?**_

_**Me: Yes, Aithne. We don't want them to kick our story off the website.**_

**So fine. I still don't own it. So there.**

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><p>Chapter Nineteen<p>

CARTH POV

Carth woke up to the sound of someone rummaging through a pack. He sat up. "Oh, good, you're up," Aithne said. "Where's my combat suit?"

"What?"

"My combat suit. The one I wore on Taris. Where is it?"

"On the ship, where else would it be?" Carth said, blinking at her sleepily.

Aithne frowned at him. "Didn't you pack it? You're carrying the armor and weaponry. Bastila's got medpacs and food- I've got security spikes, repair parts, and random datapads. Well- I need my combat suit."

Carth rolled off his mattress and climbed to his feet, stretching. "Aithne," he said. "I'm not a bantha. I can only carry so much. A couple different vibroswords, a few spare blasters, extra shields and a single change of clothes for everybody. That's it. I had to pick and choose. I didn't think you'd _need _the combat suit you wore on Taris. I did bring you a Jedi robe."

"Well that's no good," Aithne said. "I don't want to go around advertising to all of Kashyyyk that I'm a Jedi, especially after running into Malak's goons _and_ Calo Nord yesterday…"

"You carry a lightsaber," he pointed out, grabbing an energy bar from Bastila's aforementioned pack and rubbing his stubbly chin. He wondered if Jolee had a shaving mirror. Or a razor. _His_ beard was certainly neat enough.

"Yes, well, anyone who's looking that closely probably wants to kill me anyway," she said. "And the Czerka are stupid. Never mind. We have to go back to the _Hawk_."

"Aithne, beautiful…" Carth pleaded. She was being unreasonable. More so than usual.

"What seems to be the problem?" Bastila yawned, sitting up. Bits of brown hair had come undone from her elaborate hairstyle, and she blinked sleepily, making her look even younger than usual.

"_Carth_ didn't bring my combat suit," Aithne said. "I need it. We're going back."

"Can't we wait until we've found the Star Map and have figured out some way to free Zaalbar?" Carth asked.

"No," Aithne said. "I've got a feeling there won't be another time, and that _this_ thing," she gestured to her once-pretty long green tunic, now slightly sweat-stained and rather grungy, "Won't be enough for the battle ahead."

"Trust your feelings," Bastila intoned. She stretched, catlike. "I, too, feel we've not long to linger on Kashyyyk. It may be that our destiny includes some strife when we leave here."

"Ooh, destiny," grumbled Jolee, stumbling out of bed.

"Jolee, you're up," said Aithne. "Good."

"Fat chance I had of sleeping in with you lot making more noise than a bunch of tachs in mating season," grumped the old man. Aithne giggled.

"Fat chance we had of sleeping at all with you making more noise all night than a pack of stampeding katarn," she shot right back. Jolee grinned, pulling on his boots.

"Go ahead and pick up your suit, lass," he said. "We've a rough road ahead of us, and anyway, I need to pack what possessions I intend to bring along on this crusade. You should head up to the spaceport. Meet me back here when you want to go traipsing around."

"Will do. Carth and I will be back probably around ten o' clock standard time."

Carth blinked, surprised at the new arrangement. Bastila was surprised, too, and not pleasantly.

"Not I?" she asked, a bit huffily.

"I need you to take charge back at the _Hawk_," Aithne said. "Make sure we're adequately supplied for the voyage back to Dantooine. Say something especially nice to Mish. She has to be feeling terrible right now. Plus, if a fight breaks out there like we suspect, Canderous will be taking care of Sasha. I'll need someone I can trust to lead the others in defense until we return."

Bastila looked flattered. Appeased, she nodded. They took their leave of Jolee, and then the three of them headed back to the spaceport.

Carth spent a large portion of the trip back to the spaceport, the time Aithne was changing and giving directions to the crew on the Hawk, and the time the two of them were walking back to the Wookiee-vator thinking of what exactly he wanted to say to Aithne. She didn't say a word to him, didn't even look at him, with no one to take the edge off of the tension. She just looked straight ahead beneath her arched brows. The silence stretched between them could fill up a thousand light-years.

Carth very much wanted things to be all right between himself and Aithne once again, wanted to restore their friendship. He had been tactless, he admitted to himself as they drew nearer to where Gorwooken waited. He looked sideways, trying to catch her gaze. She still didn't look at him. She wasn't going to help him at all, was she? Well, she wouldn't, he thought. She'd as good as said that she blamed herself for attempting to befriend him.

"To hell with it," he muttered under his breath. "Aithne, we need to talk."

She still didn't look at him. "Do we?" she said curtly, as they once again approached Gorwooken. She stepped inside the basket, and he followed her. Aithne motioned to Gorwooken to begin lowering them down. The descent would take an hour or so. She couldn't avoid him that long, Carth thought. She turned to him, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. Once again he felt like some sort of erring pupil. "Well?" she demanded.

Carth didn't back down. "Yes, we need to talk," he said firmly. "Things aren't like I want them to be. You have to realize, I didn't mean the things I said a couple of days ago."

Aithne's face softened just a tiny bit. "Well," she said. "It's a relief to hear that you weren't _trying_ to say that you were just waiting around for me to go all Sithy on you, at least. But that's not really the point, is it? Though that's enough of a big deal. The point, Carth, is that you still don't trust me."

Carth searched her face. Her face was open now. Her eyes were sad. But her arms were crossed still, and she stared at him, waiting. Carth shifted. Then honestly, he said. "I am _trying_ to."

Aithne regarded him for a moment. Her face softened a little bit more. "Fine. That will do for now." Carth relaxed a little. He recognized that he hadn't quite fixed things, but that she was agreeing to listen and work with him, at least. "What else?" she asked.

"I don't know," Carth sighed. "It's just, I feel like the Jedi aren't telling us everything. Certainly I don't know everything that's going on. Sometimes I'll be talking to Bastila about the mission, and she'll look down or away, like she knows something she's not saying. Something important." He hesitated. So far, Aithne wasn't looking offended as he said better what he'd been trying to say a few days ago. He continued. "You have to admit, Aithne, that you being let go after only six weeks of training is a little strange. And you're off trying to save the galaxy! Don't get me wrong," he added hastily, putting his hands up, "I think that if anyone can handle saving the galaxy it's you, beautiful, but still…"

Aithne uncrossed her arms and relaxed. She gave him a little half smile. "You're no idiot, Onasi, I'll give you that." She nodded. "Sometimes Bastila shuts me out of her head, particularly when I start talking about the Star Map visions, or Darth Revan. You've got to understand, though, Carth, the Council never did tell me why I'm on this mission after six weeks of training, why I'm a special case. I'm actually amazed that you're the only one that's mentioned how weird this all is. Something's up. But I've been left out of the loop, too."

Carth blinked. Well, that had been easy. He was no further towards understanding what was going on with the Jedi, but maybe Aithne would help him now, and that was a huge step forward from where he had been. "Well, what do you know?" he asked her. Aithne turned away a bit. She gripped the sides of the basket, but then she began.

"For some reason the Council thought it was worthwhile to basically force me into Jedi training," she said. "They've told me a few things. Enough for me to gather that I'm supposedly one of the strongest Jedi the Order have ever trained. You saw how Bastila saved me yesterday?"

Carth nodded.

"She knows what she is to the Republic war effort. She wouldn't do that if I weren't somehow worth more than she is in this thing," Aithne said. Her tone was matter-of-fact, practical, but her hands shook slightly. "Nor would the Council have entrusted this mission to me, instead of her. They say I'm similar to Nomi Sunrider, or…" Aithne hesitated. In a very low voice she added, "Master Zhar says I'm very similar to Revan herself."

Carth tensed. That was a very frightening bit of deduction, he thought. He'd known Aithne was important, but he hadn't put together how important she was. Who was she in this whole game, he wondered. And Revan! An incredible general, a hero. But she'd gone so very, very wrong. One didn't say that someone was similar to Darth Revan lightly. "Similar how?" he asked.

"Well, Master Zhar said that I have the same thirst for knowledge that Revan had. I got curious, and I looked up her classification one day in the annals. She was a Consular as well, before she became a Sith. And Revan…" Aithne smiled bitterly. "She never exactly bought Order principles. I really can't say I do, either, even now."

Carth didn't know exactly what she meant by that. "What else have the Jedi told you?" he asked her.

Aithne turned to him. "I know that Bastila and I have a bond," she said. "The Jedi say it was forged when I rescued her on Taris, but I think they're lying. Though I never met her before the _Spire_ in my life. I was dreaming about her before then. And with what her requesting me for the _Spire_- well, it'd make you suspicious, wouldn't it?"

Carth frowned, and nodded.

"Anyway, the bond allows her better access into my mind than anyone's, and likewise I can tell to some extent what she is thinking and feeling. The bond means that whatever I do will affect her, and vice versa. Just think of all the ways that could be problematic."

Carth could imagine. His expression must have said something, because Aithne nodded.

"Quite. So the Jedi keep us together so as to minimize the risk of catastrophe."

"So that's why you and Bastila are saving the galaxy together," Carth said. It made sense, but it also meant that their mission was much more high-risk than even he had thought. If both Aithne and Bastila were so all-fired important, it would be a disaster if something happened to their party.

"Yes," Aithne was saying. "That's also the reason that the Council says we're sharing these dreams. Only…" her face darkened.

"Only what?" Carth asked. Aithne stared at him hard for a long moment.

"You'd think that if we were sharing these visions we'd be having the same one, wouldn't you?" she said, shifting uncomfortably.

Carth shrugged. "It makes sense," he said simply.

"Yeah, but we don't. If you notice, when Bastila describes 'our' visions she's always looking down on the scene- Revan or Revan and Malak or the Star Map or whatever. I can feel her watching. I've told her that I stand in closer- but that's not exactly true."

She wouldn't look at him, and she wrapped her arms around herself protectively.

Carth tried to imagine why Aithne would lie to Bastila, and could only come up with guesses at something very, very bad. "How do you see the visions, Aithne?" he asked her, apprehensively.

"During my dreams, both before and after Taris, I'm Revan," she said quietly. "I didn't realize before Bastila explained on Taris that a vision I'd had was of her defeating Revan- but it's true. I keep having these dreams where I'm Darth Revan, Lord of the Sith."

It caught him off guard, and Carth laughed. "You dream you're Revan, Lord of the Sith?"

"This isn't funny!" Aithne cried. "Yes! I dream I'm Darth Revan. You don't understand, Carth! I see what she sees, I do what she does, I think her thoughts in these dreams. You have no idea what it's like to feel that…that darkness inside of you!"

She turned away furiously, shaking. Tears flashed in her eyes. "She wants to conquer the galaxy, but it's not because she's crazy. It's because she's smart, and out of patience with idiots. She thinks she'd run things better than anyone else. And you know what? She really doesn't like to kill people! She's cool, and collected, and weary, and powerful…" she trailed off, shuddering.

Carth realized she was actually taking this very seriously. "These dreams shake you up, huh, beautiful?" he asked.

Aithne laughed humorlessly. "Duh. You want to know what the scary part is, Onasi? The scary part is that Revan is evil, I can feel it. But she's _not foreign_. She's _incredibly _familiar. Do you get it, Carth? That woman, that tyrant and murderer who nearly destroyed the galaxy? Whose apprentice is doing a pretty good job of shooting it all up even now? I could be just like her. That could be me. It is, in my dreams. The Jedi say so…what if I end up just writing that story all over again?"

It was his worst fear, but now that she'd voiced it, it seemed so ridiculous. "Whoa," he said gently. "Hold it there." He put both hands on Aithne's shoulders, staring her right in the face. Gorwooken, in the corner of the descending basket, gave a snort. Carth ignored the Wookiee. Aithne had kept this hidden, even from Bastila, and when she'd chosen to talk about it, far from keeping him out of the loop, she'd come to him first of all. After everything, it meant a lot to him. "Listen. You are not Revan. You said that it was the Jedi Masters that told you that you were like her?"

"Yeah, Zhar. So what?" Aithne said.

"Well maybe your subconscious latched onto that, and is placing you there in your dreams, within the Revan persona."

Aithne's face lightened suddenly. "Yeah," she said. "Maybe that's it."

"You're not Revan, beautiful," Carth told her. "Not when you still hurt over every slave and hungry kid we meet. Cool? Collected? Aithne, you couldn't be farther from that!" He smiled a bit. "You have one of the worst tempers I've ever had the misfortune to encounter, actually. But I have never seen you hurt a friend. I have, on the other hand, seen you take every precaution you can to avoid a fight, even with our enemies. You might save the galaxy like Revan, but the credit stops there. You wouldn't try to take over. You wouldn't want the trouble of ruling it."

Aithne relaxed more and more through this speech, the fear and anger leaving her face. The tears stayed, though. And when he was finished, she flung her arms about him, shaking in relief and gratitude.

"Force, Aithne," Carth said, rubbing her back as if she were a small child. "You've been worried about that all this time? You should have talked to me about all this sooner."

Suddenly Aithne stiffened, and Carth realized he was doing it again. It was just so _easy_ to comfort her, to hold her. Aithne pulled away with a wary, jittery smile.

Carth hid his disappointment. He had thought for a second that things might be restored between them. Well- at least they were talking again. He thought they might be friends, or at least _friendly_ again. But she was holding on to that new wariness, that new consciousness she'd gained of the situation. He gave a weary sigh as she turned away. He couldn't say he blamed her. Were he in her place, he might hesitate to trust someone as messed up as he knew himself to be with his own emotions, too.

* * *

><p>AITHNE POV<p>

Aithne was silent as the basket hit the forest floor, thinking. Carth's words had comforted her. Despite herself, she was glad that they were talking again. But that didn't mean she was about to fall into his arms like some bimbo. That way lay only heartache, she'd already seen. Still, she shot him a smile as they disembarked. "C'mon, then," she said. "Let's go find Jolee."

They jogged over to the hermit's hut. Jolee sat there, upon a rock, a worn leather pack beside him. He was humming a tuneless little song. His eyes were closed. As they drew near, his eyes opened.

"'Bout time you two showed up," he remarked. "I see you've got your armor, lass. I was about to go save the galaxy myself. Make it back in time for tea, maybe."

Aithne grinned at him. "Well, c'mon old man," she said. "I don't want to sit around here shooting the breeze until me and Carth here are as wrinkly as you."

Jolee appraised her, a slow smile breaking across his face. He stood, and grabbed his pack.

Jolee led them along forest paths, weaving in and out between the giant gray trees with an ease that attested to his many years of residence there. For a while Carth and Aithne followed without talking. Eventually, though, Carth broke the silence.

"So, Jolee, you decided to leave your little hermitage in the forest and come help us stop the Sith. I guess you realized this was worth coming out of retirement for, huh?" His tone was a little forced, and he looked around at the vast dim forest. Aithne didn't blame him. It wasn't a forest that liked to hear people talk.

Jolee cracked a grin, though, and Aithne felt a sudden feeling of apprehension.

"Yeah, that's right, sonny," Jolee said. "The Sith are the greatest evil to hit the galaxy since well, the Mandalorians. And they're the worst thing since Exar Kun. Blah blah blah, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera."

Aithne snorted, seeing where he was going with this. She couldn't wait to hear Carth's response.

"Ok, old man," he said, annoyed. "You lost me there. Are you trying to make a point?"

Jolee sighed. "Look, everybody always figures the time they live in is the most epic, most important age to end all ages. But tyrants and heroes rise and fall, and historians sort out the pieces."

"Well there's a way to make a gal feel better about saving the galaxy," Aithne said wryly, rolling her eyes.

"I'm just trying to keep things in perspective," Jolee replied seriously. "Malak is a tyrant who should be stopped. If he conquers the galaxy we're in for a couple of rough centuries. Eventually it'll come around again, but I'd rather not wait that long."

"Me neither," interjected Aithne.

"So we do what we have to," concluded the old man, "and we try to stop the Sith." He redirected his words back to Carth. "But don't start thinking that this war, your war, is more important than any other war just because you're in it."

Carth frowned. "That's an interesting theory," he said, "but I don't buy it. The Republic stands for something; it's stood for something for fifteen thousand years. And if it falls, everything will change forever."

Aithne turned her head to look at him. "For curiosity's sake, exactly what does the Republic stand for, Carth? What are you fighting for?"

Carth looked at Aithne, and his eyes almost glowed with conviction. "I'm fighting for freedom," he said simply. "For justice, and for equal representation."

Aithne couldn't decide whether to melt at his goodness or be annoyed at his simplistic view of things. "That's a very sweet thing to say," she said finally, "And if the Republic actually stood for those things, I'd be behind you all the way."

"If?" Carth said, sounding insulted.

"Yes, _if_," Aithne retorted. "You're smarter than that, Carth. I was press-ganged into this little war. Twice. I look around, and I see a bloated, sluggish entity full of corruption. I see a Senate full of petty politicians that are far more concerned with the welfare of their private business ventures than they are with the welfare of their respective peoples. There are far too many citizens for the Republic to protect anyway for its effectiveness ever to be guaranteed."

Carth was taken aback. "Exactly whose side are you on, Aithne?" he demanded.

"I'm on your side," she replied immediately. "_Your_ side, Carth Onasi. I'm on Mission Vao's side. And Zaalbar's side. And Teethree's and Canderous' and Juhani's. I'm on Bastila's side. Now I'm on your side, too, Jolee Bindo," she added to the old Jedi who had been jogging in front of them listening intently. "I stand for friendship. I stand for truth." She shrugged. "And yeah, I stand for justice, freedom, and equal representation." She sighed. "And you're right, Carth. The Republic, _at its best _promotes all these things. Maybe after nearly being conquered twice, they'll get back to promoting them."

"You're pretty practical, aren't you, beautiful?" Carth said. He had an odd expression on his face.

"I like to think of myself as a realist."

"This war's very personal to you," he observed.

"Everyone believes what they need to get through this," Jolee cut in before Aithne could answer. "The bottom line is all of us want to stop Malak, so let's not get hung up on the details. Let's just get back to stopping him. We're here."

He gestured to a blue force field that had sprung up in the path. "There, you see? Beautifully subtle, isn't it? At least, compared to other Czerka equipment dumped down here. It's only been here a short while, or the Wookiees would have disabled it. They wouldn't have had an easy time of it, though."

Aithne looked around. She and the others were in the middle of nowhere. "Why place this thing here?" she asked, puzzled.

"There are others," Jolee said, "Each blocking similar points on certain paths. It is all very calculated. Very precise. It would have been effective if it hadn't relied on the creatures to be walking. Climbers don't have much trouble getting around it."

Aithne scuffed the toe of her boot in the dirt. "Jolee," she said. "Can you please stop lecturing us about the force field and get us past it? Yes, it's very pretty. Yes, it's a very stupid idea. We all know slavers are idiots. Get on with it!"

Jolee grinned, and Aithne realized the old man was deliberately provoking her. She sighed. Jolee had lived alone for a long time."I can manipulate it for a moment," he said. "Let me see…how did the Czerka engineers do it?"

He fiddled with a key pad next to the force field. The force field dissipated. "There we go. Now keep moving," he instructed. "These are the most dangerous depths of Kashyyyk. A few surprises wait for us, I'll wager."

Aithne nodded for the old Jedi to proceed. He led her and Carth into an older section of the forest. Moss and kinrath webs hung off of the ancient wroshyr trunks. Aithne shuddered. She hated kinrath. Creepy, disgusting creatures. And it looked like this section of the forest was absolutely crawling with them.

Mere seconds after Aithne passed into the Lower Shadowlands, she saw metal flashing in the distance, and heard a Wookiee war cry. She ignited her sabers at once.

"C'mon," she growled.

The scene she darted into was dramatic. No less than three armored Mandalorians squared off against a single Wookiee. Two of his companions lay bled out on the forest floor. Aithne sprang upon the Mandalorians. Carth fired his blasters. And just as the Mandalorians turned to face their new opponents, lightning flashed. Force Lightning. Aithne was almost as surprised as the Mandalorians at the lightning Jolee shot out of his hands. _Cool,_ she thought. They had the element of surprise, and what with Jolee's Force Whirlwinds and Lightning, Aithne and Carth soon cut the Wookiee's attackers down.

Barely winded, Aithne shot Jolee a smile, and turned to the Wookiee. He was leaning against a tree, and a nasty gash ran down his side. It was draining him quickly.

/Great Bacca/ he prayed faintly. /let this outsider be different than the slavers/ He looked directly at Aithne, who'd led the rescue. /I beg you…can you heal my wounds? An attack…from nowhere. Please, I need to be healed. Can you?/

Aithne held out a hand, and Jolee placed a medpac into it. He'd had one ready already. /What happened here?/ she asked the Wookiee.

He blinked as he heard her Shyriiwook. /Please…I need to be healed. I…am dying./

/Here,/ Aithne said, handing him the medpac. /Use this medpac. It will help. I'd do more,/ she added, gesturing with her hands to indicate the Force, /but my understanding of Wookiee anatomy is chancy at best./

The Wookiee injected the medpac, and rose shakily to his feet. The bleeding began to slow from his side. /I…I thank you,/ he said. /I would not have expected an outsider to aid me./ He looked hard at Aithne, then continued. /Perhaps…you will help again?/

Warily, Aithne answered. /If I can,/

/My hunting party, all of them, killed without honor,/ the Wookiee explained. /I barely survived. I want the murderers to suffer the same./

/Ah, that's just it, isn't it,/ said Aithne. /What can you tell me about your attackers?/ Absently, she noted Jolee translating for Carth behind her.

/I've never seen their kind before, not even the Czerka,/ related the Wookiee. His bleeding had completely stopped now, and his growling was becoming more articulate. /You saw them, armored from head to toe, yet blending in with the forest. They followed us for a long while. We found bodies to the southwest, and then again further south after the west branch of the path. Their speed was amazing. They fought like outsiders, waiting until we were unarmed. They would not attack until we had put our weapons away! They strike like cowards!/

"Mandalorians," Aithne told Carth and Jolee in Basic. "Cowardly and traitorous, if they were armored. Revan took all the armor of the ones that didn't desert…"

"When she killed Mandalore the Ultimate, I know," replied Carth.

/They hunt your brethren like beasts,/ Aithne addressed the Wookiee. /I will avenge this outrage./

/I thank you,/ the Wookiee said. /I will wait here. I am too weak to fight them again, but I refuse to leave the Shadowlands unless vengeance is sated. Please, if you kill them, I will reward you with whatever I can. They are not worthy of life. Look for them where the bodies of my fellows are. They will only attack you if you are armed. The cowards./

Aithne nodded respectfully, and took her leave of the Wookiee.

"We're going to go around killing more Mandalorians?" Carth asked.

"It does seem that way, doesn't it?" Aithne replied. "But first let's take care of any kinrath in the area. I don't want to fight two different enemies at once."

"That would be a good idea," Jolee said, "Except there could always be more of the beasts in the undergrowth."

"Well at least we'll let them know that we're here," Aithne persisted, "And that we are predator, not prey."

Jolee sighed, but went along with it. The next hour or so was both excruciatingly taxing and incredibly dull for the travelers. They fought kinrath after kinrath. It was brutal, mindless exertion. The kinrath had no brains to speak of, but they were very strong, and Aithne noted that the variety in that area of Kashyyyk was particularly venomous. She lost count of the number of times she used a Force Push to hold a slavering beast at bay when its dripping fangs were inches away from someone's throat. But finally the kinrath they saw began to scuttle away, and the forest floor was quieter, free of the sound of scuttling kinrath legs over the underbrush.

"See?" panted Aithne. "Nothing to it." That said, she slid down to sit on her butt against the trunk of a wroshyr.

"Uh-huh," said Carth, sitting beside her, but looking considerably less exhausted. He'd kept to range weapons, and had not sapped nearly as much strength as the two Force-users. He rooted about in his pack, and handed Aithne her canteen. She drank it down to the very dregs without a word. Jolee, too, took a water break.

"I wonder if we could eat something," Aithne said presently.

"Well we have the ration bars," Carth began.

"No," Aithne interrupted before he could finish.

"Actually," said Jolee, eyeing a nearby kinrath corpse.

Aithne caught his glance. "Jolee, you're disgusting," she informed him wearily.

"Don't knock it if you haven't tried it," Jolee laughed. "The vermin actually make pretty good eating. I can whip up some kinrath legs in ten, maybe twenty minutes if Carth will start a fire."

Aithne considered, gazing at the kinrath. She pulled out a ration bar from her pack, and looked at it in distaste. "Fine," she growled. "Carth, I'll grab some wood."

They were in an old forest inhabited by dangerous animals with claws and horns, so it didn't take Aithne long to find some dead dry wood. She brought it back to Carth, and in about a minute he had a good little fire going. Meanwhile, Jolee had cracked open two of the kinrath legs to expose the tender white meat within. Placing them over the fire, he began to cook, turning the legs every two minutes or so until an exotic, faintly oceanic smell began to fill the air.

Fifteen minutes later, as promised, Jolee divided up the kinrath legs. It was messy eating, and Aithne burnt her fingers, but the kinrath was delicious. It tasted much like certain crustaceans she'd eaten in the past, but a little chewier with a faint woody flavor.

"Well I understand why those Wookiees were down here hunting," Aithne remarked as she licked the last of the kinrath off of her lips. "That was actually pretty good. I feel much more like killing Mandalorians now. Thanks, Jolee."

Jolee kicked dirt over the fire to extinguish it. "Don't mention it," he said.

The trio then proceeded to disarm themselves. Aithne hid her lightsabers in her pack, leaving it ever slightly open. When the Mandalorians attacked, she would use the Force to call her weapons to her. Jolee did the same. As for Carth? His blasters were stuck in Aithne's pack. She'd send them to him when the fight began.

It didn't take long for the group to find the first group of fallen Wookiees. And sure enough, as soon as they stepped among them, Aithne heard a faint hiss, and suddenly they were surrounded by three armored and armed Mandalorians. Closing her eyes, she called her lightsabers to her. A split second after that she sent the blasters to Carth. Opening her eyes, she ignited her sabers, and fell upon the stalkers. The Mandalorians were clearly taken aback by Aithne's group's preparedness. This was shown to be the case, because mere seconds after they had unshielded, Aithne and her friends had insured they would never shield again.

She rummaged through the Mandalorian corpses, finding a few useful things, but nothing very interesting. As she'd suspected, the Mandalorians were amusing themselves hunting the locals. A datapad she found on one of the corpses proved it.

"Well that's one group, then," she told the others, rising after placing the few things she had gathered into her pack. "Two more to go."

"The Wookiee only mentioned one more place," Jolee reminded her.

"Yes, but this datapad indicates that the hunters are divided into three groups. The actual murderers in two, and the Mandalorians who issued the orders in a third."

Jolee nodded, and Aithne led the group south to the other location the wounded Wookiee had mentioned.

The attack went much the same as the last, with Aithne doing most of the saber work, Jolee using his powers to hurt and disarm the Mandalorians, and Carth hanging back and shooting faster than Aithne had pretty much seen anyone shoot. But at the end of the skirmish, as Aithne looted the bodies, she found a swoop bike signaling device.

"The other group is on the move," she reported. "We won't find them easily. Let's head over to the Mandalorian swoop bikes over there and call them back home."

Jolee smiled. "Calling the murderers to you for the showdown? Lass, I think I like you."

"Never do more than you have to," Aithne intoned.

Carth rolled his eyes. "Yes, _that's_ the rule we live by," he muttered.

"What do you mean by that?" Aithne asked him.

"Never mind."

Aithne walked over to the swoop bikes. She disabled the steering mechanism on all three bikes with her lightsabers, leaving them steaming. She then reattached the signaling device to one and activated. This done, she shielded and leant up against the bike, a deactivated lightsaber in each hand, her arms crossed. Carth chuckled.

"Dramatic much?"

"You never get a second chance to make a first impression," Aithne said.

"Especially when you plan on killing the people in question," Jolee agreed.

They didn't have long to wait. Soon three Mandalorians appeared before them. These were bigger, and one wore blood red armor. Aithne could tell these had been in charge of the others. She examined her nails.

The Mandalorian Commander spoke up. "You have interrupted our hunt, interloper," he said, the rage in his voice barely contained.

"Have we?" Aithne replied in a bored tone of voice.

"The inhabitants of this world could do little against us, but you appear to be a threat," he continued.

Aithne stood, igniting her lightsabers and taking up a defensive stance. "Just a threat to your extermination of sentient people?" she said lightly. "I'm so disappointed. I'd hoped to stop it."

"Your big talk will come to nothing," the Mandalorian Commander replied, taking up a stance himself. His companions followed suit. "Our training here will continue, without your interference."

Aithne just smiled. She nodded once, and the three of them sprang together at the enemy. It wasn't an easy fight. There were only three of them, but the Mandalorians they faced were strong, for all that they were cowardly and despicable. With one of his companions felled by Jolee, Aithne squared off against the Mandalorian Commander. They exchanged a flurry of blows, but as they locked blades, Aithne found herself unprepared for her opponent's strength. She could feel the satisfaction emanating from him as he forced her backwards, trying to pin her against one of the demolished swoops. She disentangled her right blade, and tried to bring it up and around. But the Mandalorian Commander just blocked her swing and continued to force her backwards, laughing a little. In desperation Aithne brought her left knee up to knee the man in the stomach. Letting loose a little grunt, he was forced back a step, and Aithne brought her left saber up and around to take his head as Carth finished the third in the background.

"Nice," Carth complimented her, jogging up. "But I don't know why you didn't try that left hand sweep to begin with. Most opponents are only used to fighting single blades. While they'll expect a right handed maneuver, you should be able to get most of them with a left handed move."

Aithne stared at him blankly. "What?" he said, a little defensively. "I went to basic training, same as anyone. Only difference is that I specialized in two handed combat. You learn this stuff."

Aithne laughed. "And I ought to have remembered sooner. I will next time. Thanks."

She gazed down at the head of the Mandalorian Commander. She knew what she had to do, but she didn't' like it.

Kneeling, she removed the helmet from the head of the Commander. He'd been dark haired and blue eyed, she noted, perhaps thirty-four. Handsome, in a brutish kind of way. Gingerly, she cleaned the blood off the base of the helmet with a rag that she'd used to polish her vibroblades, and tossed it to Carth. "Put it in the pack," she said. "We'll need proof to show the Wookiee back there that we avenged his hunting party."

"Yuck," was Carth's only comment.

Aithne climbed to her feet. "Ok. Done with chasing rabbits. Where's the Star Map?" she asked Jolee.

Jolee thought for a moment. "Actually," he said. "It's not far at all. This way."

In less than three minutes he'd led them to the Star Map. Aithne saw it there in all its black-pillared glory, but she also saw the Computer interface beside it.

"Yes, there's the thing," Jolee remarked. "Obstinate machine. I've no doubt it holds what you seek, but good luck getting it to respond!"

"Watch me," Aithne growled. She addressed the holographic interface. It appeared in the image of an alien the likes of which she had never seen before. At first, the interface seemed to respond well to Aithne, like the droid in the ancient ruins on Dantooine had. It even said that it had brain patterns on file indicating that it should allow her to proceed. This made Aithne curious, and she began to ask questions. And once she did that, all her progress ground to a halt. The thing became uncooperative and began withholding information. It said that should she wish to proceed, she'd have to undergo 'Behavioral Reconfiguration' or something like that.

Among the things she _was_ able to determine was the fact that the interface had probably been installed by Revan upon her last visit to Kashyyyk, a fact that coincided with Aithne's dream. Aithne was also able to determine that Jolee had tried no less than one hundred and fifty two times to access the Star Map.

"_One hundred and fifty two_," Aithne said in disbelief, staring at the old man. "Really?"

Jolee chuckled. "Call me stubborn, I guess," he replied. "It's not like there was anything else to do around here."

The final thing Aithne learned was that a Wookiee, presumably the rogue Chuundar had sent her here to dispatch, had also tried to access the Star Map. A Wookiee named Freyyr. _No one knows what happened to him, my eye, _thought Aithne furiously. _His own father. And Chuundar needs him killed because if Zaalbar were to meet him, the two could join forces against him. With both of them attesting to his guilt, they might be able to instigate an uprising. That's probably why Chuundar's holding Big Z, come to think of it. Well Chuundar, you're in for a shock. _The beginnings of a plan had started to form in Aithne's mind.

But there was still the Star Map to deal with. Finally Aithne just came out and asked. "What do I need to do to get access to the Star Map, Computer?"

Unfortunately the Computer did not tell her that all she'd had to do was ask, and send her off with map and the directions to destroying the Star Forge. "Your request requires additional security access," it said instead. "You must be made to match the parameters I have been supplied."

_Revan, then,_ thought Aithne, a bit disturbed that she'd been found similar enough to Revan to proceed this far. She looked at Carth nervously. He returned her gaze, spreading his arms helplessly. He didn't get it, then. Aithne was glad. "How can I match them when I don't know what they are?" she said.

"There are measures available," the Computer said, in as close to a consoling tone as technology could muster. "Personality profiling will verify the basic structure of your conscious mind. With that, I will determine whether you are ready to receive the Star Map, or can be made ready."

"What do you mean by that?" Aithne said.

"Information unavailable," the Computer replied yet again, and Aithne wanted to scream. "If you have any further questions ask them now," the Computer instructed. "Access will be terminated will success or failure of evaluation."

"Ugh. Even computers won't tell me anything," Aithne complained. "Fine. Start your little 'evaluation'."

The computer began. "Evaluation commencing," it said. "Results will be compared against the pattern in memory,"

_Revan, _Aithne added silently.

"Just act like you should," the Computer continued. "You travel with a Wookiee and have encountered complications," it said suddenly. "Hypothetical: You and this Zaalbar are captured and separated. If you both remain silent, one year of prison for each of you. However, call Zaalbar a traitor, and he will serve five years, while you serve none. He is offered the same deal, but if you both accuse the other, you both serve two years. What do you do? What do you trust him to do?"

Aithne was disturbed. "How do you even know about Zaalbar?" she demanded. "He isn't here."

"I hear what happens on Kashyyyk, and a great deal beyond," replied the Computer, which didn't help at all. "Answer the question I have posed."

"You call that a question?" Aithne replied. "I trust Big Z, of course. I wouldn't turn him in, no matter what the circumstances, and he wouldn't say anything either."

"Are you sure?" the Computer asked. Belatedly, Aithne realized that Darth Revan probably would have turned on her buddies in a heartbeat.

"If you turn," explained the Computer, "you risk two years, or none at all. IF you rely on loyalty, you risk one year. Or five. Your loyalty is dangerous," it finished. "Your companion could take the opportunity to benefit by turning on you. Zaalbar's family is mired in treachery. What loyalty do they know? Your answer is incorrect."

Aithne was annoyed. "So being decent and trusting is incorrect? This is a hypothetical choice, not a math test. I trust Zaalbar. That's my answer. Mine. Not Revan's. And I refuse to alter my choice."

"Admirable," said Jolee, "but hardly the way to get us the Map."

"You cannot refuse," said the Computer stupidly. "Evaluation must continue. You must match the pattern in memory. _Your_ memory," it added meaningfully. Aithne however, was not given time to ask about that puzzling little comment, for the fool thing continued. "I must demand honest acceptance of the proper behavior. That is a condition of my programming."

Aithne sighed. "Whatever. Carry on, then."

"The previous incorrect response will be discounted," the Computer said officiously. "Future incorrect responses will result in rejection. Hypothetical: You are at war. Deciphering an intercepted code, you learn two things about your enemy. A single spot in their defense will be at its weakest in ten days, and they will attack one of your cities in five days. What do you do with this information? What is the most efficient course of action?"

Aithne froze. She knew _exactly_ what she would do. It was the only thing that made sense to do in that given situation. The only problem was that it was ruthless and heartless, and probably exactly what Revan herself would have done. She looked at Carth, survivor of the destruction of Telos, and couldn't say that if she were given the opportunity to save innocents or win a war, she'd let a city burn.

"This is distasteful," Aithne spat in a low voice. "I'll just take you apart to get the Star Map!" She ignited her lightsabers.

"Implied threat matches pattern in memory," the Computer replied calmly, "but the subject has failed to demonstrate required recognition. Access denied. This system will purge the subject as false. Defense mode initiated!"

Abruptly, two fully functional, mean looking droids strode into the clearing. "Oh for crying out loud!" Carth shouted.

Aithne couldn't help but agree. Letting lose a Force wave that ought to disable the droids for a good thirty seconds, Aithne sprang at them. Anger filled her mind. Anger at that stupid Computer. Anger at herself, both for not being able to say she'd make that sacrifice, and anger that she'd make it at all. She slashed and jabbed until the droids lay in broken bits on the forest floor.

Pushing hair out of her stinging eyes, Aithne returned to the Computer, intending to take it apart as well. To her surprise, however, it spoke.

"Neural scan complete. Analyzing…" The Computer looked up, and its holographic face looked as embarrassed as Aithne had ever seen technology look. "Well," it confessed, "it would appear initial assumptions about you were incorrect. Secondary scans during battle have revealed much. Under duress, your emotions were easier to read. Programming now instructs that I give you what you seek."

Aithne shouldered the new information, dreading what it meant. "What exactly did the scan during battle reveal?" she asked carefully.

"That information is unavailable," the Computer replied cheerfully. "Soon you will recognize the proper course to follow. The Star Map is yours. This unit has now completed its primary duty and has finished with the subject. Executing final action. Activation of the Star Map commencing."

Aithne handed Carth the Star Map datapad as the pillar began to open, and he began to download the new information. The Computer continued. "Parameters reset. Stasis initiated. End communication."

The hologram disappeared. Aithne gaped. Finally, she turned to Jolee and Carth, who now returned with the improved Star Map datapad. "I think the next poor Jedi who comes looking for a Star Map will have to conform to _my_ patterns," she gasped.

"That poor kid," Carth remarked.

Aithne cracked a smile. "No kidding."

Jolee took the datapad from Carth gently. "Well, well," he said. "A Star Map. An ancient artifact of Dark Side power. Can't say I'm surprised. I always knew there was something funny down here. I wonder if the Star Map has had an effect on the evolution of the creatures here in the Shadowlands."

"Interesting," Aithne said, turning to Carth. "What do we have?"

"The Map?" Carth said. "More than before, but not enough to find the Star Forge. We're still missing several crucial pieces of information."

Jolee handed Aithne the map. "So our quest continues," she observed, placing it in her pack.

"Now that we've got what you came for, we should be heading back to the treetops," Jolee said.

"No, Jolee, I don't think so," Aithne said. Carth and Jolee looked up sharply, Jolee in confusion, Carth in apprehension. "Our friend the interface just said that a Wookiee has tried to access the Star Map a few times. Freyyr. That's Big Z's father. He's the insane Wookiee Chuundar sent us down here to kill. The former chieftain." She let her meaning sink in after each sentence. "He went mad-claw when he discovered Chuundar's treachery and realized his own injustice to Zaalbar. No, we'll not be leaving just yet, Jolee. Let's go pay Freyyr a visit, shall we? I've got a plan."

Carth groaned. "Here she goes again," he told Jolee.

Aithne laughed. "But you're coming along for the ride anyway, flyboy. Don't even tell me you'd have it any other way. Not with the way you start pouting when I go off and do crazy things without you!"

Carth gave her a crooked smile. "I never said I had a problem with it, beautiful," he said quietly, and Aithne's heart flipped a little. She looked at him a little too long, and then turned away, furious at herself.

"Jolee, where do you think Freyyr might be?" she asked in a much calmer tone after she'd collected herself.

"I think I can take you there," he said. His eyes flicked from Aithne to Carth and back again, and sparkled a bit in the darkness, and Aithne was even angrier at herself.

It was a long walk in silence to the place Jolee had in mind. Eventually, though, Aithne spotted a tall, powerful Wookiee in the murky shadows. He carried a rusty vibroblade, and his fur was liberally streaked with gray. More important, though, was the fact that the Wookiee saw them. As they drew near, he flung forth his challenge.

/More of you Czerka core-rats? Is even the heart of Kashyyyk free from your kind?/

"He's almost feral after all this time," Jolee said in a low voice to Aithne. Louder, he spoke to Freyyr. "Calm yourself, Freyyr. We are friends. Don't you remember me?"

That's right, Aithne remembered. Jolee had helped Freyyr to escape to the Shadowlands.

/After years in the Shadowlands, I remember only that outsiders are not to be trusted!/ Freyyr roared. /I'll see you dead!/

"At least he hates slavers?" Aithne said hopefully, not even drawing her lightsabers as Freyyr attacked.

"This may prove difficult," was Jolee's only reply as Freyyr charged.

Aithne shoved out with the Force and knocked Freyyr back a few feet. The Wookiee rose and attempted to attack again. Aithne reached out with the Force and knocked his blade from his hands, then shoved him down yet again. Freyyr rose yet again, and attempted to attack a third time. Aithne shoved once more, harder still, and Freyyr fell to his knees. This time he did not rise.

/I…I am beaten/ he said, his breathing labored after struggling against the Force. Aithne hadn't done much more than bruise and disarm him. /Take my head, Czerka filth! You won't get another chance. So swears Freyyr of Kashyyyk./

Aithne placed her hands on her hips, and replied in Shyriiwook. /Do Czerka usually use the Force here?/ she demanded. Chuundar looked at her sharply, completely taken aback by both words and language. She continued. /I'm not here to kill you, and I hate slavers nearly as much as you! Just listen!/

Freyyr rose warily to his feet. /The words of outsiders are tainted with lies,/ he said, but his tone was not threatening. /You can't convince me otherwise./

/Listen,/ Aithne said. /Do you know Zaalbar and Chuundar?/

Freyyr tensed. /What? Those are my sons! Why do you speak their names? Tell me!/

/My name is Aithne Morrigan,/ Aithne explained. /I came to Kashyyyk with Zaalbar./

/To my shame, Zaalbar was exiled and enslaved,/ Freyyr said wearily. /Do you dare claim to be my son's owner, outsider?/

Aithne couldn't help rolling her eyes. /I would never,/ she said. /No. He was a slave for maybe two days, but not mine. I freed him, and he follows because of a lifedebt./

/Does he?/ Freyyr said hopefully. /Then he sees something of worth in you. I will listen…cautiously. Gullibility has armed me in the past. If I had seen the lies of Chuundar, he would have been exposed as a slaver. Zaalbar would not have been exiled…I did not believe Zaalbar's claims,/ he confessed, /I believed the elder boy, as tradition dictated. The shame of Zaalbar's attack blinded me./

Jolee translated again for Carth. /What exactly happened?/ Aithne asked gently.

/Zaalbar saw it first,/ Freyyr related. /He learned that Chuundar was dealing with the Czerka, leading them to our hunting parties. Chuundar would blame disappearances on the dangers of the Shadowlands. Zaalbar was crazed when he found out. He attacked Chuundar with his claws. I thought he had gone mad…shed his honor. I was bound by the old ways./

/And Zaalbar was exiled,/ Aithne finished. She did not blame Freyyr with her words, merely stated fact. /When did you learn the truth?/

/A year later,/ Freyyr said. /By then, Chuundar had spread lies of my own madness. I had no allies when I confronted him. He and his Czerka guards attacked me. I had to retreat to the deepest Shadowlands, but even there they followed./

"That's when I first saw him," Jolee explained. "I helped his pursuers lose him for a moment. Do you remember me now, Freyyr?"

Freyyr lifted his lips in a Wookiee smile. Aithne found herself wondering exactly how the kooky old man had managed to help the Wookiee escape his pursuers. She looked sideways at Jolee. He winked at her cheekily.

Freyyr spoke to Jolee. /Yes, I think I do. I am sorry about attacking. It's been so long since I have offered my trust, or accepted that of someone else./

Aithne nodded. /Well?/ she demanded. /What happens now?/

Freyyr understood. /That would depend on you, Aithne Morrigan,/ he said. /You will either kill me or decide that I may yet benefit my people. There is a way I might challenge Chuundar, but it would take a lot to convince people they have been lied to./

Something in his tone made Aithne wary. /Exactly what would it take?/ she growled. She'd brought Zaalbar here. She'd sought Freyyr out. But he wasn't helpless. He was a strong, powerful Wookiee, one that had led Rwookrrorro for a long time.

/Chuundar has a strong web of lies,/ Freyyr explained, /but if I appeal to the traditions of my people, I might be able to gather support. There is a legend of a great warrior from the old times. Bacca was his name, and he is greatly revered. Bacca found a crashed starship, our first hint of life elsewhere. He was a cautious old wook, and feared the taint of invaders. He constructed a vibroblade from the wreckage. It has long symbolized our independence. Only destined leaders have held it./

/You need it./ Aithne stated. /Understood. Where is it?/

/That is the problem,/ said Freyyr, shifting uneasily. /It was the symbol of our great chieftains for centuries, but it was damaged a generation ago in ritual battle. Here in the Shadowlands Rothrrrawr fought the Great Beast./

Somehow Aithne knew, even before Freyyr said anything else. All blood left her face immediately. "Oh Force," she said in a colorless whisper to the others. "We're going to have to fight that terentatek."

Jolee swore. Carth turned as pale as Aithne.

/He sought a challenge,/ Freyyr continued, /but this arrogance got him more than he could handle. He survived, but the blade of the sword stayed in the creature's hide. Our tales say it was taken because we had become undeserving. The hilt is still in the court of or chieftain…with Chuundar. If the blade could be found, Aithne Morrigan, tradition could cast doubt on his rule./

Aithne looked at the others. Carth nodded, jaw tight. Aithne bit her lip, then said, /Where can I find it?/

/Fresh blood will draw it out,/ Freyyr explained. /Before Chuundar's rule put an end to the ritual, fresh kills were often left as offerings in the south of this area./

So it wasn't far. /Can you give me any other direction?/ Aithne pleaded.

/Go to the place of ritual south of here,/ Freyyr instructed. /If the Great Beast is to be lured out of hiding, it must be done there, using the old ways. You'll need some bait, however./

"Jolee?" Aithne asked, "Aren't all those kinrath corpses near here?"

Jolee nodded. Freyyr continued.

/A viper kinrath body will do well. Display it, and the creature will emerge. I will stay here and try to think of what I will say to Zaalbar. I have wronged him. I hope he can forgive me. I will be here. Please, Aithne Morrigan, find the blade of Bacca's sword. I must make things right./

Fifteen minutes later, as Aithne and Carth between them hoisted a kinrath corpse onto a vine in the place of ritual Freyyr had mentioned, Aithne grumbled, "What is it about me that tells people to assign me impossible tasks?"

"You certainly do seem to draw them," Carth remarked, as tense as she herself. Aithne was equipped with the meanest vibroblade Carth had had with him. Jolee would have to make do with his lightsaber, so Aithne's number one priority would be to protect him from the Bane of the Jedi. Both of them knew very well not to even try to use the Force. The creature would feed off the energy and use it to strengthen itself. And it was already strong enough.

An unearthly roar suddenly shattered the stillness of the clearing. Aithne whirled around, and there it was. Giant, venomous, and specifically bred to kill Jedi like her. Aithne set her jaw, and rushed the thing. A giant claw swept her aside. Outright threw her five feet back, like some kind of ragdoll. Aithne rose, wincing as she felt the bruising across her abdomen. Carth took aim carefully, and shot out the creature's right eye. It howled in agony, and Jolee sprang and dealt it a blow to the shoulder. The terentatek roared into the old man's face, swinging its spiked tail around to trip him. With a nimbleness that belied his old age, Jolee jumped back, and Aithne jumped into the creature's path, dealing it a nasty gash to the side with her double-bladed vibrosword. Metal gleamed out as the blood streamed forth.

"Guys?" Aithne hollered, "I found Bacca's Blade!"

"Great," Carth yelled back. "We'll grab it later! First let's deal with this thing trying to kill us!"

With a flash of red light from his blaster, out went the creature's other eye. Now completely blind, the terentatek began stomping around, looking to annihilate these pesky little people who dared to bother it. Green blood streamed from the smoking holes that had been its sharp, beady eyes. Using a sort of tag team effort, Jolee and Aithne dealt it wound after wound. Jolee got knocked into a tree at one point, and Aithne suffered a glancing blow to the shoulder with the terentatek's tail. But it began to weary at last, and Aithne finally dove in, twisting her double-blade around, cutting into the creature's heart. Green blood gushed over her hands, and Aithne stepped back, kneeling and wiping her blade on the grass.

"Gross," she muttered. "Gross. Gross. Gross. I _so_ prefer lightsabers. _So_ much cleaner."

Carth chuckled, handing her a canteen and a rag. Aithne poured water over her hands, wiping them with the cloth until not a trace of terentatek gore remained.

Jolee strode up, wincing as he walked from his run-in with the tree. In his hands he carried the smoking blade of Bacca's sword. Aithne looked over to see a disemboweled terentatek corpse.

"But you're clean!" she whined.

"Lightsaber," Jolee replied. "Cauterizes as it cuts, remember."

"It's still no fair," she muttered rebelliously.

"Quit being such a girl," Carth ordered.

"I _am_ a girl!" Aithne retorted, rising to her feet, placing the cleaned vibroblade in her pack and removing her lightsabers once again. "And you're not the one that got terentatek guts all over you, Mr. Five Feet Back With Blasters!"

"Granted," Carth admitted. "Now can we get out of here? That thing's starting to smell."

"In a minute," Jolee said, striding over to Aithne. "She's hurt."

Aithne had forgotten about her shoulder. Now that the old man mentioned it, her wound started throbbing like a live thing. She glanced over at her shoulder, only to see blood slowly leaking from an area that was already purple from the force of the blow.

"Hold still," Jolee commanded. He ran his hand over the wound, and a cool sensation washed over the burning pain. Aithne saw the bruising recede, then vanish completely. Her skin knit together under her very nose. It was the quickest, most complete Force Healing she'd ever seen.

"You're good," she breathed.

"It was my specialty, back in the day."

"I can tell."

Jolee handed her a small, tattered, ancient looking bag. "I found this near the terentatek, as well."

Aithne opened the bag. A circlet, the type that enhanced the brain waves of the wearer, was inside, along with a datapad. Aithne skimmed it, and then looked at Jolee seriously.

"Master Dorak will want to see this," she announced. "This tells of the splitting of three Jedi who went on the Great Hunt. It tells of their fall. One of them died here. The other two? Who knows?"

"Fascinating," Jolee replied.

"An entry for the archives, at any rate. C'mon, let's go back to Freyyr."

Five minutes later Aithne stood before Freyyr once again.

Freyyr greeted them. /Please tell me you have made progress,/ he said then. /Having the blade will gain me valuable support./

Aithne felt a surge of anticipation. Things were about to happen, she could feel it. Grinning with victory, she bowed dramatically. /Honorable Freyyr,/ she began, /Achieving the impossible yet again, we have obtained the blade of Bacca's sword!/ Whipping the blade from her pack, she presented the rusty, broken sword to the old Wookiee with a flourish.

/You have?/ Freyyr stammered, /Please, let me see it! I must be sure!/

Aithne rolled her eyes. /Here, take it. I'm sure it's what you want, and I sure don't need it./

Freyyr ran his claws nimbly over the blade, turning it over and over. /It… it is!/ he exclaimed at last. /It may not look like much, but it is a very important artifact of my people. Tradition dictates that it be respected./ Freyyr looked up at Aithne, Jolee and Carth. Stiffly, he bowed. /I did not think I was worthy to search for it,/ he admitted, /but I realize that was selfish despair. I should have challenged Chuundar long ago./

/Yes, you should have,/ Aithne agreed.

Freyyr shook himself all over, the battle light reentering his eyes. /Well I will make amends now!/ he declared. /I have new hope. You have led me to this. Perhaps this is what the Great Beast wanted./

Aithne snorted. /Actually, I'm pretty sure what the Great Beast wanted was Jedi and Republic pilot for supper, but that'll work, too. We should proceed carefully./

Freyyr nodded. /I will climb to the surface as quickly as possible and try to gather support,/ he said. /You will have to follow me on the paths as soon as you can, Aithne Morrigan. When you arrive we will confront Chuundar in the throne room. My people will no longer be slaves./

Aithne punched the air. "Yes!" Freyyr turned and immediately began to scale one of the massive wroshyrs.

Carth turned to Aithne, hands on hips. "We've started a revolt," he said flatly. "You couldn't resist, could you?"

Aithne grabbed his hands then. "Oh, c'mon, Carth," she pleaded. "The Wookiees are going to be free! Don't give me that face! Could _you_ resist?" She pulled him into a couple of steps of a silly little dance. He tripped after her, completely astonished.

Suddenly Carth laughed. He took the lead before Aithne could say another word, spinning her around. Aithne gasped in surprise. Carth dipped her low. His face came very close to hers, and Aithne held her breath. "No," he said quietly. "No, I couldn't resist." He set her upright again then, and turned away, a little smile tugging one corner of his mouth up. "C'mon, Aithne, Jolee, let's go."

"If you're quite finished celebrating the victory we haven't won yet," Jolee said amiably.

Aithne blushed, and pulled out her com-link. "Aithne to Bastila," she said. "Aithne to Bastila. Come in, Bastila.'

The link crackled, and Bastila's face appeared on the screen. "Hello, Aithne," she said. "Have you made much progress?"

"Found the Star Map, found Big Z's father, and I think I've successfully instigated a Wookiee revolt against the Czerka, if what's going down turns out alright. Lock down the _Hawk_, Bas. Things are going to get hot, one way or the other."

"What will happen if things don't turn out alright?" Bastila demanded.

"Then me, Carth, Zaalbar, and Jolee are toast," Aithne said baldly. "If I don't call you again in two hours, get the _Hawk_ out of there. We're all dead, and they're coming for you."

"I understand," said Bastila, jaw set. "Aithne?"

"Yes, Bastila?"

"Don't you dare die. The galaxy needs you."

Aithne laughed. "I'll do my best, Bastila. Over and out."

By this time, Aithne had arrived at the tree beneath which that wounded Wookiee still awaited her.

He greeted her. /You return,/ he said. /Have you found them? Did you kill them all? They were animals in armor, with no honor among them./

Aithne signaled Carth. He tossed the Wookiee the helmet. /I know, friend,/ she told him. /I killed them all./

The Wookiee looked at the helmet he held. /Yes…yes. I see the trophy helmet from the one that gave orders. Their bodies will not last long in the Shadowlands. I am glad. The taint of them, their cowardice…the forest will consume it all. I hope this gives my hunting brethren peace./

/Me, too,/ Aithne replied. /You can keep the helmet. Goodbye./

/Wait,/ the Wookiee said, holding up a paw. /You have helped in avenging my fellows. I must acknowledge that, even if you are an outsider, and not to be fully trusted./

Aithne was starting to be annoyed by all the Outsider talk. /My name's Aithne Morrigan,/ she growled. /You can call me _that_, you know. It doesn't always have to be 'Outsider'./

/I am Grrrwahr,/ said the Wookiee. /You have acted as a fellow Wookiee would have. Here, take this,/ he said, holding out a small token. /It is the symbol of my hunting clan. You served them, so you deserve it./

Aithne took it, bowing. /I am honored,/ she replied. / And I'd stay and talk, but there's a big fight about to go down for Chieftain. I've been invited, and I'm running late. Come if you wish. Support Freyyr, because Chuundar's allied with Czerka!/

Grrrwahr looked at her, nonplussed. Aithne shot him a bright smile, and ran off into the gloom.

They returned to the Upper Shadowlands, running towards Rwookrrorro. Unfortunately, Aithne was forced to kill Gorwooken, as he'd heard of her betrayal. He was an ally of Chuundar's, and wouldn't stand for it. She'd seen him operate the basket enough to raise herself and her allies up to the Great Walkway, though, and another Wookiee met her there and hurried her to the village.

Aithne met Freyyr and a few of his allies outside of the throne room. All of them strode in. Chuundar looked at them in surprise for about two seconds. Then, forcing a smile, he addressed the room.

/Oh, that's just great!/ he said. /Everyone is here now! It's a reunion!/

Freyyr lifted Bacca's blade high. /Yes, son,/ he said. /By the blade of Bacca's sword, I've come to end your treachery! No more will you sell your own people!/

Chuundar looked slightly nervous. Then he laughed, hoisting high an intricately carved hilt. /You have Bacca's blade?/ he said, /So what? I have the hilt, held by each true Chieftain in recent memory. Even you claimed it was all important!/ But the Wookiees around the room grumbled among themselves, looking from Chuundar to Freyyr with uncertain eyes.

/We both have our ancient trinkets,/ Chuundar said. /So who will the people follow? You? You are old and weak!/

Aithne looked at Freyyr. Gray threaded through his fur, true, but he stood tall and proud, lean and strong from years of living in the Shadowlands. Aithne didn't think he looked weak at all.

Suddenly Zaalbar spoke up. He'd been standing in a corner to Chuundar's left, unguarded now, Aithne noted. /Shut up!/ he cried. /Both of you! This ends today! I…I will not let Rwookrrorro suffer any more!/

/You can say that again, Big Z,/ Aithne said, looking around at the nervous looking Czerka guards.

/I…I don't know what to do, Aithne,/ Zaalbar confessed in a softer tone. /Chuundar has been telling me things. He makes sense…I think. I don't know./

/He would make sense,/ Aithne told him. /He's been lying for years. Of course he's gotten good at it. Chuundar's a slaver, Zaalbar. Freyyr's the honorable one here./

/Is this the best course?/ Zaalbar asked.

Aithne reached into her pack, pulling out the double vibroblade she'd used against the terentatek. She tossed it to her friend. /I feel it in my bones,/ she said, as Zaalbar caught the blade.

/Then there is no other way,/ Zaalbar said, looking regretfully at the sword. /Chuundar!/ he growled. /You have betrayed your people. You must pay!/

Authority laced his words. Aithne distinctly saw several younger Wookiees against the walls of the throne room stand a bit taller.

/That's my boy!/ Freyyr praised Zaalbar.

/You're too weak to fight, old wook,/ snarled Chuundar, brandishing his own vibroblade. /And I still have Czerka support! We'll see who dies today!/

Chuundar attacked his father, and the Czerka opened fire on Zaalbar and Freyyr. But several Wookiees sprang to their defense, and Aithne, Jolee, and Carth jumped into the fight. Aithne was amazed to see only two Wookiees standing with Chuundar. She left them alone for the moment, focusing on the Czerka with their blasters. They were a pleasure to annihilate, those slavers that had oppressed the Wookiees for so long. The fight was completely over in about a minute and a half. The Wookiees took down their traitors, and Aithne and her friends took out the Czerka. When the noise subsided, Freyyr was gazing down at the body of his eldest son.

/We have done it,/ Freyyr said. /I am saddened that it had to come to this, but I couldn't let it continue./ He turned to Zaalbar, who stood beside Aithne. /Zaalbar, my son, I am truly sorry. You have suffered a great shame. I was blind. I have no excuse./

Zaalbar stepped forward. Aithne noted that he stood even taller than his powerful father, and felt a rush of pride for her friend as he took his father's paw. /But I can forgive, Father,/ he said gently. /I have learned a lot over the years./ The two stood there for a moment, in perfect understanding. Aithne beamed.

/Freyyr,/ she said presently. /What will you do about the slavers?/

The Wookiee Chieftain turned back to face Aithne. /We will fight them,/ he announced. A Wookiee cheer rose from around the room. /It will be difficult, but I swear they won't take another one of my people without bloodshed./

/Oh, good,/ Aithne said.

/I'll send quick-climbers to other villages and try to rally a defense,/ Freyyr, said, pacing as he thought. /We must guard against this ever happening again. You three will be the last outsiders welcome here for a very long time. That is a change for the better, I think./

Aithne turned to Zaalbar. /Zaalbar, what are you going to do now?/ she asked, slightly apprehensive. /I shall release you from your lifedebt, should you wish to remain here./

Zaalbar thought for a moment. /Returning home has lifted a great weight from my mind,/ he began, /but it has been painful as well./

/You have a place by my side, Zaalbar,/ Freyyr offered. /I would be honored if you would take it./

/I…I can't,/ Zaalbar said, then seemed to grow stronger. /Not yet. I'm just getting used to being free…and not just from the slavers. And I have a lifedebt. Now that my life is truly my own again, honoring that agreement is all the more important./

Freyyr smiled. /Listen to my son!/ he cried to the hall proudly. /His insight humbles me. Take that good judgment with you, and all the planets will come to revere Wookiee wisdom!/

Aithne smiled. /I am glad for you and your village, and gladder for Zaalbar's continued company and aid,/ she said, /but I need to contact my companions, and I must rest for the night./

Freyyr nodded. /By all means, rest here for the night,/ he offered generously. /You will be an honored guest in my household./

A young Wookiee took Aithne, Carth, Jolee, and Zaalbar away. The first thing Aithne did was contact Bastila.

"We're alive. Freyyr's back in charge," she reported as soon as Bastila came back into view. "Big Z's with us, but the Wookiees will be attacking the spaceport. You need to keep the _Hawk_ locked down. Freyyr's letting us stay here for the night. We ought to be able to join you by midday tomorrow."

Bastila smiled. "That's the best news I've heard all week," she remarked. "Good work, Padawan. I'll tell the others, and we'll see you all tomorrow. Over and out."

Aithne made a face at the screen. _Padawan. Honestly!_

The first thing she and the others did was have the Wookiee lead them to a place where she could wash. It was a pleasure to wash the grime of the Shadowlands, particularly of the terentatek, away. Afterwards, the Wookiees feasted Aithne and her friends royally. Fruit and roasted meats were fed to them until they felt they could explode. As Aithne and her companions lay down in Wookiee hammocks in the house Zaalbar grew up in, Aithne heard the Wookiees chanting the burial song of Chuundar.

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><p><strong>AN: I really love this chapter. Both before, and now, even if it is RIDICULOUSLY long. Wookiee abolition movements! Revan teasers! And don't let's forget the Carth-Aithne romance moments. Not that they're completely okay, even now. That's coming, though. **

**Coming Soon: Carth finally comes clean about the true extent of his past trauma and its effect on his psyche. This will lead to a new foundation of trust and security for our heroes: an actual place for them to begin a healthy romantic relationship. Of course, because this is Star Wars, I'll have to mess it up later, but some sappy feelings will be felt, and embraced rather than shunned. These feelings will not be expressed, but honestly. Would you express your feelings for a man after he told you his wife (and probably his son) was killed in an attack on his home planet enabled by his favorite teacher-turned-traitor? **

**Just sit tight. Aithne's a slow mover. And anyone who's played the game knows that Carth definitely is! All will be well my friends! I hope you're enjoying this! R&R!**

**May the Force be with You,**

**LMSharp**


	20. Spring After Winter

**Disclaimer: NO! NO! NO! This is still not my universe! Stop torturing me!**

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><p>Chapter Twenty<p>

The Wookiee hammock Freyyr had provided for Aithne and her companions was insanely comfortable. And what with the previous day's exertions- instigating a planet-wide abolition movement and all- Aithne felt she was entitled to a little extra sleep. She woke late, rested, and with a overall sense of wellbeing. She spent half the morning helping the Wookiees to determine which among them were loyal, and which had allied themselves with the Czerka slavers. A couple different Wookiees were killed for selling their fellows into slavery. Others were honored for their past actions against the slavers. It was groundbreaking work, inspiring work, and it would continue over the next several months until Rwookrrorro was a healthy, happy place again, free of tyrannous slavers. But around eleven o'clock in the morning, Aithne decided it was time for her to go.

She went to the throne room with Carth, Jolee, and Zaalbar. Freyyr was bent over a workbench in an alcove, laboring over Bacca's sword. When the four of them entered, he straightened.

/Zaalbar, Jolee, Aithne, Carth,/ he greeted them. /Good morning. What do you require?/

/I think it's time I was leaving,/ Aithne said.

Freyyr nodded gravely. /Perhaps. But before you go, Aithne Morrigan, I must see to your reward. You have done us a great service. Kashyyyk will remember you well past your lifetime. Because of you, I am reinstated as Chieftain. We will return to the old ways, when honor and trust of kin ruled above all else. I'm not sure there is a reward that accurately reflects the value of what you have done. Our world is changed because of you./

Aithne shook her head. /I may have given you the push you needed, but the real work is to come, and I am sure that you and yours will handle it with facility and honor. What I have done, I did for the pride and joy of it, and out of love for freedom and truth. I desire no reward./

Freyyr growled approvingly. Zaalbar stepped forward. /Father, I have a request,/ he said. /I have thought about it a great deal. I would like Bacca's sword./

Aithne looked up into the fierce, honest face of her Wookiee friend, a little surprised by his boldness. She smiled then. /That would be fitting, I think,/ she said. In fact, she could think of no one better suited to the proud, ancient blade than this Wookiee beside her.

Freyyr looked down at the newly reunited hilt and blade. /Well,/ he said regretfully, /that is quite a request. I am tempted to say no, but perhaps I should consider it an investment. Zaalbar, do you understand what this will mean? It is the legacy of our people, held by chieftains…and future chieftains./

Zaalbar nodded, looking as solemn and earnest as the day Aithne had met him. /I understand. I want this, father. I'll bring it back one day./

Aithne smiled. /Yes, you will,/ she told the Wookiee. The words were a promise.

/I have no doubt,/ Freyyr said, handing his son the ancient, ritual blade. /Let the two halves of the blade be made one,/ he intoned. /My son shall hold Bacca's sword./

Aithne bowed, first to Freyyr, and then to Zaalbar. She wished the tough old chieftain well, and she and her companions took her leave of Rwookrrorro.

As they walked along the Great Walkway, Aithne spoke to Zaalbar. /Do you want to talk, Big Z?/

Zaalbar looked at her, surprised by Aithne's use of Mission's nickname for him. He didn't seem to resent it, though. /You have seen more than I would have allowed,/ he admitted. /And taught me some things, too. I am grateful for that. It will be a while before I know what my role will be in making Kashyyyk truly free. I have a lot to learn./

Aithne grinned up at the towering hairball. /Just by knowing that, you're a lot farther than some people ever get. Why did you request to take Bacca's sword?/

Zaalbar shrugged, looking at the ancient weapon in his hand. /I'm not sure I really know,/ he said. /Father expects much of me…I guess I do as well. I think, when I've learned enough, I'll bring it back to Kashyyyk. What happens then…we'll see./

Zaalbar looked over his shoulder at the retreating gates of his home for a moment. /I'm sorry you didn't get to stay on Kashyyyk longer,/ Aithne said.

Zaalbar looked down at Aithne, smiling with his eyes the way Wookiees did. /You and I have important things to do,/ he said. /I don't feel bad about leaving this time. I know I'll be welcomed back./

/I'm sure you will,/ she said. /Let's go./

As they drew nearer to the spaceport, Aithne could hear the sounds of roars and screams resounding. Aithne grinned. It was about time the Wookiees kicked the Czerka off Kashyyyk.

Entering the fray with a good will, Aithne and her companions joined the Wookiees in a few skirmishes. It was happy work, for it was accompanied with the feeling of something wrong being set right after years of suffering.

Aithne finally made her way to the _Ebon Hawk_. She was surprised, and pleased, to see that the Wookiees had posted guards to make sure that the Czerka neither harmed nor stole her vessel. She gave the order for the ramp to be lowered.

/Go ahead,/ she told Zaalbar at the opening of the _Hawk_. /Someone's waiting for you./

Zaalbar went ahead into the ship. As the others followed more slowly, Aithne heard a shriek of glee. As she entered the common room, she was gifted with the sight of a teenage Twi'lek wrapped around her Wookiee best friend.

"Big Z! You're back! Oh, I'm so glad to see you! What happened? Was it terrible? You have to tell me all about it!" Mission said, in a continuous rapid stream that made Aithne wonder how the girl avoided passing out. As she rattled on, the other inmates of the _Ebon Hawk_ came out from their various locations.

/I will, Mission,/ Zaalbar laughed. /But first you have to let me get a word in edgewise!/

Mission released Zaalbar, nodding happily. She caught sight of Aithne. She went to Aithne, more slowly.

"I knew you'd get him back," she said. "I just had a feeling, you know? You're a true friend, Aithne."

"What? Like I'd leave Big Z to his slaving brother?" Aithne said, crossing her arms. "As if!"

"It is good that the Wookiee has returned," commented Juhani from her doorway, "But if I may venture to query, who is that man?"

She pointed to Jolee.

Aithne laughed. "Jolee? Meet Juhani, Mission, Canderous, Sasha, and T3-M4," as she spoke she indicated each crew-member in turn. "This is the rest of our little crew of suicidal misfits. Everybody? This is Jolee Bindo. Carth, Bastila, and I met up with him in the Shadowlands. Apparently, he'd been _living there_, but once we came along he decided it'd be more fun to join us on our insane mission to cripple the Sith than to stay there holding philosophical conversations with the tach and kinrath."

Jolee looked at her. She raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to protest her introduction, and he chuckled. Aithne smiled. "He ought to fit in fine. He helped me to find the Star Map. I want you all to make him feel welcome."

Mission immediately stepped up. "Nice to meet you, Jolee!" she said brightly, shaking the old man's hand at once.

Jolee couldn't help but grin. "Mission, is it?"

"That's right," Aithne said. "Mission Vao. Zaalbar's best friend. Found her running around on the streets of the Tarisian Undercity. She's the best Stealth Op you'll ever meet, and a genius with mines."

Mission blushed. "Glad to have you aboard," she said to Jolee.

In a few short sentences, Aithne introduced Jolee to the rest of the crew members he hadn't met. He got their names on the first try, and Juhani in particular seemed to like him.

"And Carth, Bastila, and Zaalbar you've met," Aithne finished. "Carth's our paranoid pilot, Bastila's the resident nagging prodigy, and we've been talking about Zaalbar for two and a half days."

"Sheesh," said Jolee. "You weren't kidding when you said your crew was a bunch of insane, suicidal misfits, were you? I'm sure we'll all get along fine."

Mission, Carth, Zaalbar, and Aithne all laughed. Bastila scowled, both at Aithne's description as a nag, and at Jolee's wholehearted agreement to Aithne's assessment of the crew's insanity. She didn't say anything, though. Aithne thought the "prodigy" thing might have mollified her a bit. Canderous also scowled, but that was a usual thing for him. Juhani was frowning with the usual confusion she demonstrated at any attempt at humor, and with Teethree's beeping, who could tell what he thought?

"Carth?" Aithne directed, "Plot a course for Dantooine. We've got to see if we can find someone who knows what to do with Sasha before we proceed."

"Will do, Aithne," Carth replied, turning to go to the cockpit.

Within twenty minutes they were once again drifting through hyperspace. Aithne unstrapped herself from her seat, and made her way to the room Canderous usually stayed in.

She walked in to find Canderous and Sasha stationed over the workbench. The Mandalorian spoke instructions sternly to the girl in his native tongue, as she labored over the bench.

"Hey, guys," Aithne said. "What are you doing?"

Sasha turned to Aithne, bright eyed. She gestured to the bench and spoke a garbled mess of excited words. Aithne leaned in to look, and observed that Canderous had been guiding the girl in the construction of a blaster.

"A blaster, Canderous?" she asked quietly. "Really? I mean, I heard you ask her if she wanted to learn how to build one, but I thought for sure that…"

"What'd you think I was going to do with the kid? Sit around making daisy chains?" Canderous growled in Basic. His expression softened as he looked at the girl. "She's actually really good at it," he said. "She's been working on it for a few days now. The girl will grow up to be a fine warrior one day."

Aithne smiled. "Have you taught her to shoot a blaster yet?" she asked.

"Not yet," Canderous replied. "I want her to finish making one before she starts learning how to work it. I've told her stories, though."

"War stories?"

"I don't have many of the other kind," Canderous said.

Aithne walked over to the little stowaway. "Hey, Sasha," she said in Basic.

"Hey, Aithne," the girl replied. Aithne turned to Canderous, questioning.

"Yeah, so I taught her everyone's name, and how to say hello," he admitted.

"Your blaster is looking good," Aithne complimented the girl, using sign language to indicate that she liked the half-finished weapon. The girl beamed, like Aithne had just given her the galaxy's best present. Aithne ruffled the girl's hair and left her to her work. She pulled Canderous aside.

"Thanks for doing this, Canderous," she said. "I really appreciate it."

"I follow my orders," the Mandalorian replied simply.

"I'm sorry you missed out on the fighting," Aithne said. "Next time there's going to be big firefight, I'll take you along, I promise."

"You'd better," growled Canderous, giving Aithne the tiniest suggestion of a smile.

The next few days were pretty boring, all in all. Traveling through hyperspace never left much for anyone besides Carth to do. Aithne grew restless, and had several pitched battles with Bastila. It didn't make for pleasant conversation, but at least arguing with her was intellectually stimulating. She lost Pazaak game after Pazaak game with Mission, all the while gritting her teeth as Teethree beeped at her and Zaalbar laughed and Jolee made cryptic observations that didn't help her to win the game at all. Sometimes she sat down with Sasha in the evening and listened to Canderous tell stories.

One such evening, he told her a story about a battle over Althir.

/That battle gained me command of an entire sub-sect of my clan/ he told Aithne and Sasha in his native Mandalorian.

/What happened?/ Sasha asked eagerly.

/For five days they had managed to hold off our forces,/ said Canderous in a dramatic tone. /Keeping us to the outer rings of their world, preventing us from attacking it directly. My task was to assault one of their flanks with a false attack. The Althiri would be drawn out by the units I had sent in. Once they had surrounded these units, the bulk of my forces would attack from the rear and defeat them in detail./

/I see,/ said Aithne, picturing it in her head.

/Did it work?/ piped up Sasha.

/Things didn't go as I had planned,/ said Canderous. /I saw an opening-a mistake they had made in the disposition of their forces-and took it! While fending off our main force they had let their fleet split in two. The center of their entire fleet was left exposed!/

/Well that was dumb,/ commented Sasha in Mandalorian. Though it would still be a long time before she could speak fluently in either Basic or Mandalorian, Canderous had helped her to learn a few easy phrases in both. The Mandalorian came easier to her, after years of captivity, but with consistent instruction and patience, Aithne foresaw that in a year or so, Sasha would have no problems.

Canderous laughed harshly. /Yeah, kid. That was dumb. I turned my forces and assaulted the center of their fleet, decimating them!/

/I see,/ remarked Aithne. /You judged the opportunity worth the disobedience?/

/This is a chance given to a warrior once or twice in a lifetime,/ explained Canderous to his audience. /The chance to change the course of history in a single act. Their slow, ponderous ships could not turn to face us without being overwhelmed. Their command vessels were destroyed in seconds. Their ranks were overthrown into chaos. It was most amusing to watch the surviving ships scatter and flee. Several even tried to dive through the planes of the rings to escape us! They were shredded by the rings, or crashed into rocks, or were destroyed by our forces as we pursued them./

Canderous looked at Sasha. /Warriors do not flee from a battle if they are losing,/ he informed her. /They fight to the end!/

Sasha nodded quickly, adoration shining from her round eyes.

"They fight to the end," Canderous said again, switching to Basic and turning to Aithne. "As we did against your Jedi, Revan. Another time maybe I'll tell you about how the war with the Republic went. But that's enough for now. The kid should get some sleep."

/I don't want to go to bed!/ pouted Sasha, turning to Aithne pleadingly. "Aithne, please!" she added in Basic.

"Sasha, you have to go to bed," Aithne said firmly, containing her amusement.

/Kid, a warrior follows her orders,/ Canderous said. /You've gotten yours. Go to bed./

Sasha sighed dramatically, but did as she was told. Aithne smiled at her retreating back. Every day she spent aboard the _Ebon Hawk_, she grew bolder and stronger, more like the child she should have been.

Smiling at Canderous, Aithne thanked him for the story, and left. Now, with the crew settling down for the day, she would meditate. She made her way to the cargo hold, and sat down on the hard floor.

She closed her eyes, calming her emotions. Regret. She didn't exactly want to give Sasha up when they arrived on Dantooine. Aithne dealt with this by reminding herself that there was no place for the child where they were going. Her frustration was only to be expected after days in hyperspace. Aithne knew this was only a manifestation of her extreme boredom. Breathing deeply, Aithne comforted herself in the knowledge that the _Ebon Hawk_ was due to land on Dantooine by four in the afternoon the following day. Calm and at peace, Aithne reached out with the Force to feel her surroundings.

As always, the Force swirled up to meet her, welcoming her, reassuring her once again that she belonged to it. Aithne felt outside the hyperspace tunnel to touch the stars, passing by in a millisecond, and she heard their songs in her head. She felt the fierce joy of the _Ebon Hawk_'s engines as it flew through space, doing what it was designed to do. She felt Mission's quiet happiness as she talked to Zaalbar and Teethree (in some strange way, she and the droid had come to an understanding), but she also felt the girl missing her brother. She felt Zaalbar, more at peace than he'd been in years. She identified the worrying, innocent presence she'd come to know as Bastila, but passed over the girl's mind. She found it all too easy to slip into the younger woman's mind, and some embarrassment had come of it in the past. She felt Jolee, old, strong, generally amused at life, but she also felt sadness so old that it seemed to have soaked into his very bones. She wondered if she'd ever know the reason for it.

Then Aithne stopped up short. A bitter, fiery anger burned on board the ship. Carth was usually angry, but his anger had a different flavor. Older, more set. This anger was raw and fresh, and somehow wilder. Aithne probed the presence with her mind, and 'saw' the Force swirling about the Cathar woman, darker than usual. Abruptly, Aithne rose, and went to Juhani.

She found Juhani pacing in the little room she'd claimed as her own. Her brow was contorted, and her face twisted when she caught sight of Aithne.

"What's wrong, Juhani?" Aithne asked. "I was meditating. You're so angry you might as well be sending up a flare."

"I never told you where I came from, did I?" Juhani said in a low, controlled voice. "Where I grew up as a child? I suppose I was trying to deny what I was feeling."

Aithne felt a sensation of dread. "Where did you grow up, Juhani?"

Juhani turned rapidly, pacing again. "I have been wrestling with my feeling inside," she confessed. 'Trying to come to terms with it, but I find I cannot. I must have someone to blame! Someone to blame for the destruction of my homeworld. Someone who is responsible for the death of everyone I have ever known except those on Dantooine!"

Aithne stiffened. "Why do I get the feeling this is directed at me?" she asked rhetorically. Juhani turned, eyes blazing.

"Taris!" she spat. "It was Taris that the Sith destroyed to try to kill you and your precious Bastila! Taris, my homeworld!"

Aithne thought back to the things Juhani had told her about her homeworld. Its incredible intolerance of non-humans. The separation between the rich and the poor. "Actually, that makes sense," she said, mostly to herself.

This did not help matters. "If it were not for you and Bastila, the Sith would have never had reason to destroy that world!" Juhani accused. "It was your fault for being there, and your fault for rescuing Bastila! Without your intervention the Sith would have had no cause to lay waste to my childhood!"

"Now wait just a second…" Aithne began heatedly, provoked.

Juhani held up a hand, closing her eyes, and Aithne felt pain wash over her fellow Jedi for a moment. Pain that overwhelmed the anger, if only for a second. "Just let me vent my anger!" she begged. "I need someone to blame…something. Anything! I hated that world, yet everything I learned as a child I learned there. It is as much a part of me as the air I breathe. I have this ache inside me where all my childhood memories lay, and I find your face there with them. If it was not for you, that world would still exist!"

Aithne struggled for the words to say. "Calm yourself, Juhani!" she managed at last. Juhani looked at her, uncertain. In desperation, Aithne added, "Remember the Jedi Code!" The mantra had a little significance for Aithne, but Juhani had been living by it for about six or seven years.

Juhani nodded shakily. "There is no emotion. There is peace." She took a deep breath, and looked up at Aithne. Some of her anger had dissipated. "I suppose you did what you had to…and it could not have been avoided."

"The destruction of Taris could have easily been avoided," she said. "I did not destroy Taris. While I was there, I did what I could to improve it." She paused, regarding the Cathar. Seeing that Juhani was listening, Aithne continued. "Malak gave the order to destroy your homeworld, Juhani, and when he did he didn't even know about me. Come to think of it, even if I hadn't rescued Bastila, the Sith wouldn't have found her where she was, and the planet would have still been destroyed. But that was Malak's own stupid, evil choice. Do you hear me? Not my doing, and not Bastila's."

Juhani shuddered, and then calmed. "You are right, of course. But it is so hard to lose your entire past," she said bleakly, blinking back a tear. "You would not understand."

"No," Aithne said. "But two others on this ship would. Carth is from Telos, did you know that?"

Juhani shook her head wordlessly, eyes wide. Much of Aithne's remaining sympathy evaporated. "You haven't talked to Mission much, either, I can tell," she said. "Do you know where she grew up, Juhani? Do you know _where _we saved her and Zaalbar from? Do you know where Mission watched all of her friends die?"

"Not Taris?" Juhani whispered, horrified.

Aithne nodded wearily. "Taris, Juhani."

Juhani looked down. "Oh."

Aithne regretted her harshness after that one tiny syllable. She placed a hand on the Cathar's broad shoulder. "Talk to her, Juhani. You're not alone. Everything will be alright."

"Yes…" said Juhani. "Yes. I suppose it will. Good night, Aithne."

"Good night, Juhani."

As Aithne left, she thought about Juhani and Taris. It actually explained rather a lot about the young, tempestuous Guardian. Judging from the snippets she'd been able to weasel out of Juhani, and her age, the Jedi she had met as a girl, the ones that had inspired her to seek out the Jedi, would have been Revan's followers, stopping on Taris on their way to fight the Mandalorians. Those Jedi had been brave, of course, and good. But they'd never been poster children for the Order's ideals of patience and self-control. If those Jedi were Juhani's idols, and considering she was in fact a Cathar, it was no wonder she had trouble with the self-control end of things.

The next morning, when Aithne awoke, she heard the soft voices and muffled crying from the other end of the room. She was not altogether surprised when she turned to see Mission and Juhani there, talking about their shared loves and losses on Taris. Smiling to herself a bit, she tiptoed out of the room. She ate breakfast alone, thinking of how she'd occupy her time that day. Juhani and Mission would be busy for at least the next few hours, she thought, and Zaalbar and Canderous were sparring, showing Sasha some of the finer points of melee fighting. She didn't feel much like going around and around with Jolee. Honestly, that man was harder to get a straight answer out of than the trees he'd lived around for so long.

That left Carth and Bastila. Aithne smiled a bit. She'd had a few meaningless conversations with Carth since they had started talking again. Nothing big, nothing important. Just how-do-you-do, how's-hyperspace, must-you-wear-that-horrible-fluorescent-jacket type things. Aithne frowned. They were back on an even keel. He'd gone to a bit of effort to restore equilibrium between them after their blowout last time leaving Dantooine, but it occurred to her that she'd never learned the reason for his blow-up in the first place, and he'd only ever even offered a feeble excuse. Aithne decided that she'd ask him about it. She made her way to the cockpit. Luckily enough, Bastila was elsewhere for the time being. Aithne slid into the co-pilot's seat. She crossed her arms.

"Hello, Carth," she said.

Something about her tone seemed to alert him. He hit the autopilot button, and swerved his chair around. "Er…good morning, Aithne. Is there something I can do for you?"

"Yes, actually," Aithne said quickly. "I'm having a bit of a problem. See, I had this enormous fight with this friend of mine about two weeks ago. He just blew up at me. I got mad, and I didn't speak to him for several days. Since, we've made up, but it just occurred to me that he never explained why he got so hot and bothered that day we left Dantooine in the first place. I figured you might know a little something about it, Onasi."

Carth closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. "I…ahhh…" he stammered. "I'm not very good at this," he began to explain. "I'm overdue for an apology, aren't I? More than one, probably."

"You might be," Aithne agreed. "Proceed."

"Ok. Why I was angry." Carth looked Aithne in the face, his elbows on his knees and his hands extended earnestly. "I was just so desperate to finally face Saul directly in the battle over Taris, and now the Jedi have us looking for these…these Star Maps." Carth hesitated, but then plowed on, looking down now. "I know this mission is important, it's just…I feel a bit useless. I can fight, sure, but I'm no Jedi…all this feels completely out of my league."

_Was that it_? Aithne thought incredulously. Carth Onasi the war hero, Carth who'd put the jagged pieces together and come up with all the questions she had herself, afraid he couldn't cope? Her heart turned over just a little. If this was out of Carth's league she didn't know whose league it might be in. "You've saved my life a few times," she told him quietly. Carth looked up at her, still uncertain. Aithne forced the next words out, because beyond his feelings of incompetence, the Karath thing might cause problems later on. "But if you really feel that way, couldn't you ask the fleet to return to the front lines?" Her mind rebelled at the thought, but with a mighty feat of will she kept her face straight.

"I could," Carth said. "But I won't." An enormous feeling of relief swept over Aithne, and she relaxed. Judging from the crooked little smile Carth gave her, he noticed. She let it pass for now. "This is more important," he said. "This may really, finally make a difference…I suppose even if I can't figure out everything that's going on, I still want to help if I can. I just hate not knowing what's going on and feeling this…" he spat out the next word with difficulty. "…this helpless."

He smiled then. "But I should never take that out on you. I've been a royal pain in the backside, haven't I?"

And there it was. The apology she hadn't asked for and the explanation she had. Aithne grinned at him. "You sure have!" she agreed enthusiastically. Carth laughed.

"Well, I guess I should be at least a little pleased that I haven't lost my touch. So…it's late, but I'm sorry. Will you accept my apology?"

Aithne tapped a finger against her chin, pretending to think about it, as if she hadn't already forgiven the man. "I don't know," she said slowly. "Maybe you should work for it, a bit."

Carth widened his eyes in mock panic. "Oh? I don't know if I like the sound of that."

"Relax, flyboy," Aithne drawled. "I'll be magnanimous today. But just this once."

"So…you do accept my apology?" he asked. Aithne nodded. "Huh." Carth regarded her."Good."

"Good," he said again. "I'm glad," he managed at last. "You know, you, uh, you aren't so bad to have around, you know that?"

Aithne was a little taken aback, but she was pleased at his awkward, but honest compliment. She considered, than gave a mental shrug. Whatever. "I know," she said, batting her eyelashes at him comically. "I'm very charming, I'm told."

"More than that," Carth replied, seemingly involuntarily. Realizing what he had said, he blushed about as red as Aithne had ever seen him. "But…anyway…I need to get back to the ship…"

Aithne stood to go. "Ok," she said. "But Carth?"

She looked over her shoulder, and Carth looked right back. For a moment Aithne traced his features with her gaze, allowing herself to appreciate them. "Yes?"

Aithne put her hands on her hips and a mock fierce expression on her face. "You're only useless when I say so," she informed him. She dropped her voice to a lower tone. "And I haven't said so yet." Aithne turned before she could see the effect of her statement on the man, and walked quickly away.

* * *

><p>BASTILA POV<p>

Bastila was on her way to the cockpit when Aithne nearly ran into her. The older woman smiled a bit nervously, tucking an errant curl behind one ear. "Oh, hey, Bas," she said. She would have passed by Bastila, but Bastila stopped her.

"Flirting with the pilot again, Aithne?" She sighed."You know that the Jedi are forbidden attachments," she told Aithne for what felt like the million-and-first time.

"You know that I've never made any claim to hold strictly to the Order Principles," Aithne replied irritably, scowling. Bastila refrained from making a face. _That's truer than she knows_.

"Actually, I have been meaning to speak with you," she told Aithne, when she would have gone again. "Carth will not require me in the cockpit for some time. Might I have a word?"

"Is this going to be a lecture?" Aithne asked, following the Jedi to the conference room anyway. "Or an actual two-sided conversation?"

"The latter, I hope," Bastila replied.

Aithne nodded shortly. "Fine," she said. "Then I get to go first. Something's been bothering me."

"What can I help you with?" Bastila asked curiously.

"Why did the Council send us together on this mission?" Aithne said.

Bastila paused. It wasn't a simple question. She sensed much behind it, not least of all the questions a certain Carth Onasi had been asking lately. Not for the first time, Bastila wished for a stupider, less problematic pilot. Aithne would have been difficult to control anyway, but Carth was just making things even more complicated, on _several _fronts. These constant skeptical inquiries were not desirable for the Council's purpose! Bastila gathered her strength, erected her Force walls, and schooled her face to its best blank Council imitation.

"Why?" she asked, seemingly astonished. "I could not accomplish this on my own. I need the aid of others- especially one who is strong in the Force. The bond between us made you a natural choice. Besides, the events on Taris proved that the Force wanted to bring us together for this mission, and there is little left to chance when the Force is involved. Is that not enough for you?

Aithne crossed her arms and glared. Belatedly, Bastila realized that putting up her Force walls while talking to her bond-mate had probably been a tip-off. "I'm not buying it, Bastila. I had six weeks of training. Six weeks! They didn't even send me off on this Crusade with a Master!"

"I admit," Bastila replied, "that there were times when I wondered if this is more than just a mission to stop Malak. There were times when I wondered if this was a way for the Council to test my own abilities."

"Bastila," Aithne prompted. "The Council's not telling me everything."

Bastila started to panic, but continued doggedly. "I wondered if the Council wanted to see how I would help and guide you on our quest. I wondered if they were testing me to see if I was ready to become a Jedi Master myself."

Aithne opened her mouth to comment, but Bastila raised her hand.

"I know! I know it was foolish of me. As the Council explained, sending a Master in our group would only have drawn unwanted attention from the Sith. The fate of the galaxy is at stake. The Council would not risk it merely to test me. They calculated the risks and in the end chose the only option available."

Aithne nodded, conceding the point. "Maybe they did." Her face hardened. "But they did so without telling me what all the risks _were_. You're not telling me, either, Bastila!"

Bastila turned away. It was useless to deny it; Aithne would be able to tell. "You must learn to trust in the wisdom of the Council," she said weakly. "Your destiny will come in its appointed time. You mustn't be so impatient." The words were deliberate.

She almost sobbed in relief when Aithne took the bait. "Oh, yes, Master Bastila, _I'm_ the one who's impatient," she said mockingly.

Bastila almost smiled, though she paused to note that the insult did, in fact, sting. "Must you be so frustrating?" she demanded, half in earnest, half playing the part. "I admit, I had a moment of foolish pride. But I'm over it. Now I am focused on my true responsibilities. I am simply trying to help you and complete this mission, and yet you battle me at every turn!"

Aithne smirked. "Well it is fun," she murmured. Bastila relaxed. Aithne was sidetracked now. Still- a little longer, maybe?

"Fun?" she demanded, indignant. "Fun? Driving me insane is your idea of a good time?" Evasion was more pleasant when she could be herself, Bastila reflected happily.

"Honestly, Bas!" whined Aithne. "I'm just joking!"

Bastila threw her hands up in the air, as dramatic as Aithne at her finest. "I must admit: I simply don't know how to deal with someone like you."

Aithne chortled. "Someone with a sense of humor? Yeah, I'd noticed." She smiled.

Bastila laughed, giving in. "I don't know if I should be outraged that you keep joking about serious matters, or if I should be grateful that you can always lighten the mood."

Aithne poked her. "Be grateful," she advised. "There are too many Prophets of Doom around here. Now, what did you want to talk about?"

Bastila smiled. She was about to be completely honest, and after so much lying and evasion, it was going to feel wonderful. "Despite your sarcasm, and silliness, and downright refusal to take the Jedi Order seriously, I have come to depend on you. Not just for the sake of the mission, but for my own sake as well. I am…I am glad you are with us." And much to her surprise, she'd found that she was.

Aithne grinned. "Bastila, do I detect a compliment?"

"Well, yes," Bastila said, confused. "Surely that is not so surprising."

Aithne spluttered. Her face went red. Then she burst out into a hearty belly laugh. "Hahaha! You're kidding, right?"

Bastila put both hands on her hips, scowling. This was not going like she'd planned. "No, I'm not. Why must you make this so difficult for me? Can't you just accept a simple compliment?" Despite herself, a slight edge of hurt crept into her voice.

Aithne composed herself with difficulty. "Sorry, Bastila. Thank you for the thought."

"I know my manner can be a bit taciturn," confessed Bastila. "I know you must be getting sick of my lectures about the Dark Side and…everything else. I spent all my years being hounded by my instructors. Being told so often how gifted and important I was until I was sick of it. I remember when I was younger I used to swear that I would never become as self-absorbed and stodgy as the Jedi Masters." Bastila smiled ruefully. "It's ironic, really."

Aithne appeared to be touched. "Maybe. But you're my self-absorbed, stodgy friend," she declared. "And you don't have to be like that, anyway. Sometimes I see you laugh, and I know you can't always have been an automated wet blanket of a Jedi-bot."

Bastila smiled wistfully. "Maybe," she said. "But I am becoming like that, though it's not easy for me to admit. Being controlled has kept everyone around me at an arm's length, even those like yourself who are most in need of my understanding and compassion. But maybe it's time to change that." Bastila looked Aithne in the face. "You deserve to know how much I respect and admire you. I thought…I just thought I should tell you."

Aithne had a very odd look upon her face. Suddenly, she caught Bastila up into a tight hug. Bastila just stood there for a moment, stunned. No one had hugged her in…she didn't even know how long. But awkwardly, she returned Aithne's gesture. Breaking the hug, Aithne gripped Bastila by the shoulders, looking her in the face.

"I'm glad you did," she announced. One side of her mouth quirked up in a smile. "When you lighten up and loosen up, I like you, too."

Aithne released her. Bastila didn't know what to do for a brief time. Finally, she shook herself. "Well," she breathed out in relief. "That was not nearly so difficult as I feared. Thank you for hearing me out. I feel…I feel much better. But enough soul-searching for now. We should continue on."

She marched out of the room, a little bit troubled. The problem was she _did_ really care for Aithne, she thought. The woman was impossible. She was unruly, stubborn, joked far too much about inappropriate matters, and she was much, much too clever. But she was also extremely kind, forgiving, and- yes, sometimes she did manage to be funny. She was fun to be around. Bastila would have liked to be her friend, truly, without the lies. She didn't like controlling her, and at any rate, sometimes she suspected that it was Aithne who truly had the most influence in this relationship.

* * *

><p>AITHNE POV<p>

Bastila went to help Carth start the landing procedure, and Aithne proceeded to take care of her daily chores. A few days into their first journey, she had been forced to acknowledge that as wonderful a ship as the _Ebon Hawk_ was, it didn't take care of itself. Accordingly, Aithne, with the help of Canderous, had formulated a chore rotation. So today, Aithne spent two morose hours scouring the deck of the living area and taking her turn freshening up the fresher. After that, she was more than happy to collapse on a chair in the common hold, exhausted and bored and generally annoyed.

"What's your problem?" said Jolee, sitting next to her with his lunch.

"Just annoyed with life."

"Oh. Good to know it isn't anything major, then," Jolee said, smirking.

"Why are you here, old man?" Aithne sighed.

"Why am I here?" he repeated. "I was hungry."

"No. I mean why did you decide to come with us?"

Jolee pursed his lips. "You got yourself a fast little ship. Heh. I'd forgotten what engines sounded like. The closest thing to that on Kashyyyk is an uller in mating season. Ugh! Frightful!"

Aithne smiled wearily. "Yeah, well. You win some, you lose some. So you wanted a ride on my ship?"

"Or it could be for the free food," Jolee mused, poking at the goop the synthesizer had dispensed onto his plate. "What's the gunk that comes out of the synthesizer on this bucket, anyway? Do you never clean the darned thing?"

"Two days ago, actually," replied Aithne, irritated. "If you don't want to answer the question, old man, just say so."

Jolee clucked his tongue at her. "How impatient can one person be?" he asked. "You must have driven your mother mad. All that gurgling and fussing. Heh, babies are cute, but annoying."

Aithne failed to see how this related to much of anything.

"You know," continued the old ex-Jedi, "you remind me of someone else I knew ages ago. Pleasant enough fellow, great destiny, all that. Breath like a bantha."

Aithne raised her eyebrow, not sure whether to be amused, frustrated, or insulted. "Did you annoy this person endlessly, too?" she asked archly.

"Oh ho ho. Very funny. Is it my fault that some people are easily annoyed? They're like impatient little children. With blasters. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes. Andor Vex, was his name. The Force swirled around him like a hurricane, that's how great his destiny was."

"Whose destiny?" asked Mission, emerging with Juhani, and plopping down onto a chair opposite Aithne and Jolee. Juhani continued on. "She's going to go meditate," Mission said, in reply to Aithne's silent question.

"Jolee's trying to tell me about some guy he knew once. An Andor Vex."

"Ooh. Story! I want to hear!" Mission said. Aithne groaned. She'd never get a straight answer out of Jolee now.

Still, she might as well. "You traveled with this Andor?" she asked politely.

"I did," said Jolee. "Just because someone has the Force swirling around them doesn't always mean they have a great destiny, but it doesn't hurt to check it out. Well, it turned out that poor Andor believed a wee bit too much in the infallibility of that destiny. That overconfidence turned out to be his downfall."

"Is there supposed to be some hidden meaning in this?" Aithne asked, as Jolee gave her an odd, significant glance.

"I don't know," he replied mildly. "Are you overconfident? I hadn't noticed. Even if I had, I would never comment on it."

"Then you're nicer than Aithne," jabbed Mission. Aithne scowled.

"We're talking about Andor, remember?" Jolee said irritably. "Let's see, oh yes, Andor's downfall. I was pretty young myself, when it happened. At the time, I thought that Andor's destiny couldn't be more boring."

Aithne crossed her arms. "Why'd you stick around then?"

Jolee took a bite of his lunch and winced. "Well, he had a much better food dispenser than you do," he replied bluntly. "That and the fact that even then I wasn't an altogether impatient _twit_."

Aithne looked down, ashamed. Jolee smiled at her. "However, I _was_ about to abandon Andor to whatever the Force intended for him when his ship was overtaken by a Dimean warship. Now you've probably never heard of the Dimeans, but at the time they were a nasty lot led by a nastier overlord named Kraat. Tall fellow. Big teeth."

Mission giggled at the old man's description. Aithne glared.

"Anyway, Kraat has us hauled onto the bridge of his ship for questioning, and that's when I knew that Andor's destiny was at hand."

"How'd you know?" Mission interrupted.

"Swirling Force, remember?" Jolee said, pointing to himself. "Jedi here?"

"And?" Aithne said, "Go on."

"Well, Andor decides that his destiny makes him invulnerable and starts making all sorts of demands. 'Free me now', 'I'm not answering questions', blah, blah, blah. 'Don't you know who I am?' Kraat decides he's had enough and begins crushing Andor's neck. I told the boy he should have kept his mouth shut. I think he agreed, to…or those could have just been gurgling noises. Well…well, anyway. Finally, Kraat has enough of Andor and tosses him aside into this giant energy intake shaft. Andor gets sucked in and starts bouncing around, heh, screaming…heh. Maybe Andor hit something sensitive on the way down or just didn't agree with the reactor core, but the next thing I know, all the ship's alarms are ringing."

At this point, Aithne was too amused to remember she was also annoyed. "You're kidding," she laughed.

Mission was laughing, too. "You're making this up!" she accused.

"I am not!" Jolee declared. "On my honor! Everyone panics, though, and I run, barely making it to the ship in time before the explosion. Kraat dies horribly, and the Dimeans never quite recovered. Changed the political course of the entire sector for centuries to come. I'd call that quite a destiny, wouldn't you?"

Mission stared at the old man. "I think you're crazy," she said bluntly.

"Of course he's crazy," Aithne told the girl. "He's here, isn't he? We found him a hermit in the Shadowlands, for crying out loud. Of course he's crazy. But, Jolee, how can you even be sure Andor was responsible for all that?"

Jolee was indignant. "What! Are you kidding? What are the odds of that happening anyway? A billion to one? You should do so well as to be sucked into the engine of some evil Sith Lord, you know. Andor was a hero! …Sort of."

Aithne chuckled. Mission gaped. Jolee smiled, but then made a gesture of dismissal.

"Anyway, go on. My throat is dry and you're making me cranky. Shoo!"

Aithne and Mission walked away. "Seriously, Aithne, he's not quite right," the girl told her friend.

"He's a gray Jedi that's lived alone in the dangerous woods for at least twenty years. You try that and come out completely sane. I dare you."

"Gray Jedi?" Mission asked.

"I don't know," sighed Aithne. "He uses the Force, wields a lightsaber, but boasts no affiliation with the Jedi Order or the Sith Empire. He says he sees more gray than Light or Dark. Gray Jedi."

Mission considered this. "Kind of like you, huh?"

"What? The insane part or the gray Jedi part?"

Mission grinned. "Both. You don't like the Jedi, but you hate the Sith. You use the Force, but don't hold to any ideals, you know? And Aithne?"

"Yes, Mission?"

"Some of your plans are completely insane."

Aithne smiled. "Life would be so boring without a little insanity."

"I know, right?" agreed Mission. The two friends retired back to the women's dormitory, discussing kinrath and Pazaak strategy and Jedi philosophy.

They landed on Dantooine right on schedule. Aithne got Canderous and Sasha, along with Bastila, and left the ship. Aithne sent Bastila to Master Dorak with the journal she'd recovered recounting the Great Hunt. As for Sasha, Aithne had figured she would have to go speak to the Council and search the records to find where to put the girl, but she was approached by a Twi'lek named Lur Arka almost immediately. Due to Aithne's recent defeat of the Mandalorians, the girl's family had recently made inquiries concerning her. Mandalorians did not have a habit of killing their prisoners.

The girl was willing enough to go with the Twi'lek, but as she turned to go, she gave one last look at Canderous Ordo. She darted forward suddenly and flung her arms about the grizzled old warrior. He looked astonished, to say the least. When Sasha disengaged, though, he drew a neat little blaster out of his pack.

/Hey, kid,/ he said in Mandalorian. /A warrior never forgets her weapon./

Sasha smiled, and took the weapon she had made.

/May your sword stay sharp,/ Canderous said. /And may you bring your clan great glory./

He watched the girl until she and her Twi'lek protector walked out of sight.

"Well done, Canderous," Aithne said. He wanted no other praise, and if his eyes were a bit misty, only a fool would have said so.

Aithne returned to the ship, and Bastila rejoined her soon thereafter. The crew ate their dinners. Aithne, Bastila, and Juhani made a trip to the Enclave to spar with a few Padawans. As the sun set over Dantooine, Aithne emerged from the fresher, and tried her best to sleep.

But sleep would not come, for whatever reason. Thoughts kept racing through her head over and over, until her bones ached and her eyes stung, and her muscles were sore from tossing and turning on a bunk that just wouldn't be comfortable. Juhani and her struggle with anger and self-control. Mission's brother. Maybe they'd head to Tattooine next. Sasha. Aithne hoped that the little girl had a happy life after the last few years. Bastila. The Council. Jolee's story. What was her destiny, she wondered? Where was this wild goose chase across the galaxy taking her? What good would she do? What evil? And what weren't the Jedi telling her?

Finally, at about five in the morning, Aithne stopped trying to sleep. Dressing in her civilian clothes, Aithne left the ship, leaving her lightsaber behind and her hair unfastened. She was tired to her very bones, but an odd sort of sleepy energy was upon her nonetheless.

She made her way to the Enclave gardens. The softly perfumed air of Dantooine in spring floated by. Overhead, the last stars were starting to disappear. The sun had not risen yet. It was cold.

In her sort of eerie wakefulness, Aithne was not surprised when someone came up beside her. She could not make out the person's face in the shadows of the walled in garden, but she knew the tall, male figure at once.

"Couldn't sleep?" came a voice, as fatigued as her own.

"No, Carth, I couldn't," Aithne replied. A silence stole over the pair. Presently, Aithne asked Carth, "Why do you want revenge on Saul so badly?" Somehow, she knew he would answer now.

"I already told you," Carth replied with no particular heat. "He betrayed us all."

Aithne turned to his silhouette. "Yes," she said gently, "but you also told me that there was more. What else did Saul do to you?"

Carth sighed. "There…there is more to it. I'm…I'm sure you don't want to hear about it."

"Whatever I ask I want to know," Aithne replied.

"It's just that I…I don't talk about it very much, ok?" But Carth's tone was resigned, and he continued. "I told you about my homeworld, Telos," he reminded her. "Four years ago, Saul led the Sith fleet there and demanded its surrender. The planet refused, and Saul proceeded to devastate its entire surface. Millions died."

He was silent for a moment, lost in painful memories. "Aithne, I had a wife and son on Telos. I thought they would be safe there. But my task force arrived too late to be of much help. We didn't have enough medical supplies. The colony was burning, and the dying were everywhere. I remember holding my wife and screaming for the medics. They…they didn't come in time."

Aithne could see the scene before her, another Taris, but infinitely more personal. She felt like a hole had been punched in her stomach as she heard Carth's empty tone. As the sky went from black to gray, she saw the planes of his face, stoic and hard to hide the anger and hurt that raged beneath. "What happened then?" she asked simply.

"I…I had nothing left after that, really," Carth said. Aithne had figured. "I devoted myself to the fleet. Hunting Saul was my only purpose." He turned to Aithne. "I…I miss them. I know killing Saul won't bring them back, and it won't make me happy again…but I have to do it. I don't expect you to understand. I have to pay him back for what he's done. I have to. It's all I have left."

His words were low and passionate, but even as he told her of his pain and his quest, Aithne's heart broke for him, and she bore him up, not to solve his problems or to fix the wreck his life had become, but merely to help him to bear the burden.

"What was she like, your wife?" Aithne asked quietly. "She must have been pretty incredible, to inspire you to all this."

Carth nodded. "She was," he said, with feeling. "She had courage…" he laughed a little. "And she was stubborn. A little like you in that respect. I could never talk her out of anything once she put her mind to it. And she hated it when I signed back on to the fleet at the start of the war. I had planned on…on leaving soon, to join her."

"What happened to your son?" Aithne asked, still in the gentle, non-confrontational tone.

"His name was Dustil," Carth said. "And I don't know what happened to him. The colony was a complete ruin, and we never found any trace of him. I made inquiries, and I followed the reports from Telos for years, but I stopped." His face was heavy and lined in the harsh shadows of the vanishing night. He looked incredibly old, and incredibly weary. "Anyway, that's the story, for what it's worth."

He stood there in that beaten up orange jacket, and Aithne realized he'd really told her everything this time.

In a moment, the morning would realize it was morning, and the sun would rise laughing for joy, but for now the fragrant Dantooine garden was still, and the light was still bleak and gray. Carth finally turned to Aithne, looking for a reaction. He saw her standing still, and Aithne knew he saw her wet eyes. So she swallowed, and stepped forward as the first rays of the sun caressed her back. "Thank you," she said simply, taking one of Carth's large, calloused palms between her hands. Touching him sent electricity through her, and just now, as his caramel eyes widened, she knew he felt it, too. "Thank you," she repeated, "for trusting me with your story.

The dawn broke in earnest, and the first bird lifted his voice up in a song of greeting. Aithne shivered, and Carth stared at her with sleepless, shadowed eyes. Aithne wondered if this solemn, beautiful morning, full of so much pain, was also the dawn of something new between the two of them. Carth waited.

But Aithne didn't press her advantage. Carth's caramel gaze still contained too much sadness. Now wasn't the time. So instead of talking with him further, Aithne simply rose up on her toes and kissed Carth's cheek. Her hand reached up to gently brush those two stubborn locks of hair back from his face. Carth stood there, still as a stone, but he didn't protest. Without another word, Aithne stole her other hand from Carth's and walked off into the morning, throwing one soft smile back over her shoulder at the pilot.

* * *

><p>CARTH POV<p>

Carth stood there stupidly for a few seconds. Another song, human this time, but high and beautiful, rose up from the east. It wasn't a song Carth knew, but as he listened, it told a story about patience, about hurt, and ultimately, about love. Carth smiled crookedly to himself, remembering Aithne's soft lips against his cheek. But why did it hurt so badly? A wise man might have told him that the thaw before the spring always hurts after the winter.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Like it? Tell me all about it! Review and I'll see what other brilliance I can come up with! Hate it? Tell me all about it! Review and I'll see if I can fix the things that annoy you! (But please, let's keep it polite) Next up: Aithne and her oh-so-handsome pilot receive some rather unwelcome news about the fate of Dustil Onasi. The entire motley crew packs up and heads to Korriban, demonstration site for all young Sith-to-be. There will be sneakiness. There will be subterfuge. There will definitely be Aithne losing her temper and throwing those annoying Sith kids into walls. **

**God Bless,**

**LMSharp**


	21. Where the Air Burns

**Disclaimer: I am neither the genius who came up with Star Wars nor the people who created this amazing game.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Twenty-One<p>

CARTH POV

Carth ate breakfast at the Enclave, with three silent, stoic-faced Jedi knights. Normally their silence would have irritated him, but this morning his thoughts were churning, and he welcomed the chance to think.

By the time he made it back to the _Ebon Hawk_, there was a little party assembled at the boarding ramp. There was Aithne, eyes shadowed, but changed, with her hair pinned up. Carth looked away from her quickly. There was Jolee, Mission, and Canderous.

"What's going on here?" he asked.

"Bindo's going to show Morrigan some Force powers with a little more strength," Canderous informed him.

Carth remembered that Jolee had made use of Force Lightning on Kashyyyk. He frowned. "Won't the Jedi disapprove?" he asked.

"Oh, they'll look like they all swallowed lemons and limes whole," Aithne said lightly. "They'll all be convinced I'm harming my immortal soul, or something."

"It'll annoy the hell out of those Jedi Masters," Canderous said.

"And that's half the fun of it," Aithne rejoined with a smirk. "But if Jolee's not all Sithy, I think I'll be safe learning a few things he can teach me. Mission and Canderous are coming along to watch. When Jolee and I have finished his lesson, I might spar a little with Canderous."

Canderous' grim face lit up with surprise and pleasure, but Carth panicked a little. Visions of Aithne gored on Mandalorian swords popped up unbidden in his head. "I'm coming, too," he declared.

"Great. It'll be like a party," said Jolee grumpily.

"Hush, old man, you need to get used to people again," Aithne told him severely.

"Now why in the world did I get myself into this?" Jolee asked the heavens pathetically.

Mission laughed, and even Canderous looked slightly less vicious for about half a nanosecond.

Carth clapped Jolee on the back. "In with Aithne? You really shouldn't have," he said. "Madness follows her like the plague."

Mission gave him a pitying glance. "Geezer, Aithne is the madness plague!"

Aithne punched them both lightly in the arm, but she was laughing. Carth grinned. The five of them made their way to one of the many courtyards in the Jedi Enclave. Mission immediately found an apprentice about her own age, sat next to her on the bench, and struck up a conversation. Aithne and Jolee squared off, and Carth prepared to watch, but Canderous called, "Hey, Republic."

Carth turned, only to almost miss catching the sword duo Canderous had thrown at him. He regarded the big Mandalorian, who was polishing a massive double vibrosword. "You game, Onasi?" Canderous growled.

Carth considered. He'd wondered a few times how he'd do against Canderous. He'd fought in the war against the Mandalorians. He'd mostly piloted, though. He'd done some fighter work, but he could count on one hand the ground combats he'd been in with Mandalorian warriors. Aithne had said once that he'd lose if he put himself up against Canderous- but he'd observed Canderous since, sparring with Zaalbar, out on the Dantooine plains. He gave a short laugh. "What the hell," he said, taking up his position. Canderous gave a single anticipatory smirk, and brought up his own weapon.

They circled one another warily, testing one another's defenses. Carth smiled. Though he'd seen Canderous' melee fighting in his sporadic spars with Zaalbar, he doubted that Ordo had ever seen him wield anything but his signature double blasters, which meant that he had the advantage. To Carth's right, on the other end of the courtyard, he heard the hum of two lightsabers crashing, and he knew Jolee and Aithne had started their lesson. Canderous used the opportunity to attack, but Carth had been waiting for him, and he defended.

Canderous dealt a series of rapid strokes, but Carth parried or dodged them all. Canderous fell back, a bit surprised. Carth kept himself from wincing. The Mandalorian was very strong. They circled again, and now Carth attacked, and Canderous defended.

As the pair sparred, Canderous' level expression began to turn to a grin of appreciation. Carth himself was a bit amazed. He wasn't besting Canderous, but he wasn't losing, either. The Mandalorian was stronger, more brutal, but Carth was far more agile and technically correct than Canderous. Carth began to laugh as five minutes turned into seven, and seven turned into twelve, and neither of them gained any advantage over the other.

A few small children- younglings, Carth believed the Jedi called them- had been watching, but now they drew away to the other side of the courtyard. Canderous looked over, and blinked. He held up a hand. "Hold, it, Onasi," he said. "Check it out."

Carth dropped his blades and looked over. He let out a low whistle.

The younglings, and the apprentices, a few young Padawans, and Carth was amazed to see Master Zhar from the Council, too, were watching Jolee and Aithne's encounter. The two of them were exerting every power against one another. Just then, Aithne jumped off both feet and executed a double flip over Jolee's head, letting loose a crackling beam of Force energy from her hand as she landed that Carth instantly recognized as Force Lightning. Jolee blocked it, kicked out with a powerful right leg, and brought his lightsaber around in an overhead sweep. "Keep your guard up, lass," he told Aithne. "The Sith'll use everything they've got on you. Just 'cause you've got down Lightning doesn't mean they can't level you with a punch to the jaw, dammit!"

Aithne dodged the kick and blocked the lightsaber stroke, chest heaving. She unleashed a dizzying flurry of blows of her own, moving her feet in the swift, graceful dance so typical of her fighting style. Carth shook his head, and Canderous laughed. He clapped Carth on the back and swore in Mandalorian. "Carth, you're good. I'll give you that. But she- " Words failed him, and Canderous simply said, "Aithne is something else."

Jolee was wearying. He was strong, and technically correct. He was still a Jedi, and a good one, but he just couldn't match Aithne's speed, Carth noticed. He lashed out with another kick, left-sided this time, but Aithne brought her right foot up and caught his leg, catching him off balance just long enough for her to bring her left saber around in a feint while she brought the hilt of her right up swiftly. It worked. She knocked the old man's saber away from him, and leveled her right saber at his throat in the "kill" position.

For a moment, there was complete silence. Then everyone in the courtyard started to applaud. Aithne deactivated her sabers, looking around curiously. Carth smiled. Hadn't she noticed the attention she was getting?

Master Zhar emerged from the shadows of the Enclave. "Very nice, Padawan Aithne, Padawan Jolee."

"Wait," Aithne said, turning to Jolee, "You're just a Padawan?"

"The Council on Coruscant did offer to make him a Knight a long time ago," Zhar replied calmly. "He refused."

"It's just Jolee, lass." The old hermit growled.

"I have not seen a lesson like that in a long time," Zhar continued. "Both of you fought with great skill and power."

"Yeah well, you learn a few things fighting off katarn for twenty years," Jolee grumbled. He was clearly uncomfortable. Aithne looked at him quickly, and bowed to Master Zhar.

"Yes, well, we thank you for your praise, Master Zhar. But I really must continue with my training. I had promised my companion Canderous a sparring match."

Carth laughed in surprised amusement. After that, she wanted to go again? A faint sheen of sweat shone on Aithne's face, but her breathing was completely normal. Canderous regarded her for a moment, then he shook his head.

"No," he said, "I think I'll pass. I'll bet the Masters would like the apprentices back for their lessons."

Aithne shot Canderous an inquisitive look. He shrugged. "Maybe some other time."

Carth smirked. He knew the man was afraid of being shamed in a public exhibition duel. He said nothing, however.

"Very well," Aithne said. "I'll hold you to that."

"Padawan," Zhar said. "How have you fared in your mission?"

"This stop was only occasioned by my need to return a young girl that stowed away on my ship last time I was here," Aithne told him. "I have located the Star Map on Kashyyyk, and added its coordinates to my data, but there is still much that is blank, Master Zhar. Actually, we ought to return to the Hawk now, since we are done sparring, and decide where we are going from here. I shall come see the store for provisions later this afternoon. We thank you for your hospitality." She bowed again.

Zhar smiled, a bit sadly, Carth thought. "Any time, Padawan. I am glad this Enclave is able to serve as a safe dock on your quest. It is good to see you, and I wish you well." He bowed, and swept away.

Aithne started to lead them away. "Thanks, Jolee," she said as they left the courtyard.

Jolee didn't answer for a moment. "You're welcome," he said at last.

"You really were incredible," Mission said quietly. Her eyes were still wide, as she looked from Aithne to Jolee and back.

They drew near the Ebon Hawk in an amicable silence, but right before they went in, Aithne frowned. "Canderous, Mission, Jolee? You go on ahead. I'll be right in."

Canderous nodded, but Mission looked curious, and Jolee had to drag her in. Carth noticed his exclusion from the command, and looked from Aithne, alert, to the man she was staring at, and gaped.

A man in a Czerka uniform, noticing the exit of the others and Aithne's attention, stepped up. "Carth?" he said. "Carth Onasi, is that you?"

Carth blinked at the tall, dark-skinned, clean-shaven man. If he were dressed in civilian clothes, and had a thin mustache- "Jordo?" he breathed.

The man stepped forward and wrung Carth's hand tightly. "It is you, isn't it! I knew it when I laid eyes on you!" Carth began to smile. "You old spacedog, how have you been? I thought for sure you'd be fighting on some ship out there."

Carth shrugged. "I was. I crashed."

Jordo laughed in disbelief. "That's pretty rich," he said. "I can't imagine what it would take to keep you on the ground. Must have something to do with your pretty friend here, hey?" He smiled at Aithne. "How do you do, miss?"

"Nice to meet you, Jordo," smiled Aithne, shaking the hand of Carth's old neighbor. "I'm Aithne Morrigan."

"So what are you doing here, Jordo?" Carth asked. "The last time I saw you was on…um, well Telos actually."

He'd never expected to see Jordo again, after the Sith bombed the planet. The man had been an old school friend. He'd been at Carth's wedding…

Jordo's face fell. "Yeah…" he said. "It's a shame about home. Telos still hasn't recovered. The family and I moved on, and I'm working for Czerka now." He shifted uncomfortably. "I didn't see you after…er, what I mean is, my condolences on your wife." He brightened up. "At least your boy made it through alright."

Every nerve of Carth seemed to be electrified. He stared at Jordo. If he knew! "My…boy? You mean…Dustil?"

Jordo looked curiously at Carth. "Yes, of course," he said easily. "I saw him at my last stop, on Korriban, though he didn't recognize me. You…didn't know he was there?" Carth's stomach churned and his head whirled. He seized Jordo by the arms.

"No!" he exclaimed. "Jordo, Dustil has been missing since the attack on Telos! Are you…are you absolutely certain it was him?"

Jordo nodded. "Yeah," he said. Carth released him, trembling. "I'd recognize Dustil anywhere. Positive." Suddenly Jordo looked very uncomfortable. "He's…uh…he's joined the Sith, Carth," he said, pulling at his collar.

"What do you mean he's joined the Sith?" Carth demanded.

"There's an Academy for the Sith on Korriban," Jordo explained. "He's a student there. I saw him suited up in their outfit and everything. Sorry…I thought you knew."

Carth shook his head violently. "No…no, I didn't. Well thanks for letting me know, Jordo."

Carth was still shaking. Dustil hadn't died on Telos. He was alive! Alive and a Sith, though. How could he join them? What in hell had happened? He had to get to Korriban…"Sure, no problem," Jordo said slowly. "Good to see you again, Carth. Hope everything works out with Dustil." He gave Aithne a little wave and walked away.

Dustil. Dustil. _Dustil_. The name repeated in Carth's head like a mantra. His son had survived. He whirled to face Aithne and grabbed her arm. "Dustil is alive! We have to go to the Korriban Academy and find him!"

Aithne was doing calculations rapidly on a datapad. She held up a finger. "Way ahead of you," she said in a voice thick with tension. "We'll resupply and head out tonight. There's a Star Map there. We'd have had to go eventually, anyway."

Carth nodded, lost in his own thoughts. "Thank you," he said. Dustil… "I…I just have to see him. I have to know what happened to him. All this time I've thought he was…he must be a man by now…"

Aithne finished her equations, pocketed the datapad and looked up. "I understand," she said. Her voice was taut, her eyes bright with worry. "We ought to be able to leave in a few hours."

* * *

><p>AITHNE POV<p>

Carth was still dazed when they boarded the _Hawk_. "Group meeting!" Aithne shouted through the ship's corridors. "I want you all in the conference room in five!"

In five minutes, as ordered, the entire crew had filed into the meeting room. Carth stood next to Aithne, eyes bright, color unnatural.

"What's the matter with him?" grunted Canderous, jerking his thumb at the pilot.

"Don't worry about it," Aithne said curtly. "I need you and Juhani to take this datapad and bring back supplies for the journey to Korriban. We leave in four hours." She handed Canderous the datapad full of the calculations she had just done, and he took it.

But Bastila looked hard at her. "What has come up so suddenly?" she asked. "I sense much urgency from you."

"And why are we going to Korriban?" Mission added. "Manaan's closer, and we need to go there, too, right?"

"Never mind about that," Aithne answered both of them. "We're going to Korriban."

Bastila looked from Aithne to Carth suspiciously, then nodded slowly. "Very well," she said.

"Good. Then the rest of you need to prepare to travel. That's it, really." She turned on her heel and strode out of the conference room, making her way to the cargo hold to await the supplies. Her insides were burning. Carth would be useless until they found his son. She knew that much. Besides that, she didn't want to leave anyone any of her friends loved in the clutches of the Sith. But she wasn't sure she was ready to go to Korriban! Was she ready to go to an entirely Sith planet? With the warrant out for her and Carth and Bastila, and her own limited training...Aithne dismissed her concerns with an impatient wave of her hand. All she knew was that she had to get Dustil Onasi out of there. For Carth. She just had to.

They left in four hours, right on schedule. Carth was silent, and Aithne, worried for him and how things would turn out on Korriban, wasn't much better. The entire crew picked up on the mood. One evening, Mission asked Aithne about it.

"Something happened when that guy came to talk to you and Carth, didn't it?"

Aithne nodded slowly. "Bad news?" Mission guessed.

Aithne sighed. "Mission, I shouldn't tell you what happened. It's Carth's business. Let's just say that we're going to Korriban because we need to, and we're going now because he does. Okay?"

Mission cocked her head. "Aithne, I need to go to Tatooine," she said. Her voice was level.

Aithne winced. She'd hoped that this wouldn't come up. "I'd planned on heading there after Kashyyyk," she confessed, "But with the news we just heard, every second is of the essence. Lena wasn't even sure Griff was still on Tatooine, and…" She looked away from Mission. Honestly, she had always been ambivalent about seeking out Griff Vao. From everything she'd heard, she thought that it was highly likely that Mission's brother had abandoned her on Taris, in full knowledge of what he did. And she wasn't sure that any further encounter with him, even if they should manage to find him, would be good for Mission.

Mission was silent for a moment. "And what? Carth's more important?"

Aithne shook her head immediately. "No, Mission, that's not it! If you knew…Mish…" She gave up. "I have to protect him," she said finally. "I just have to. And, believe it or not, I'm trying to protect you, too."

"What, from Griff?" The words were quick, angry. But then Mission paused. "Oh," she said. "You're not sure he'll want to see me, even if he's there," she said. "He will! I'm sure he meant to come back for me! He probably thinks I'm dead, now. I have to tell him I'm not."

Aithne shifted uncomfortably.

"You still don't think it would be a good idea," Mission said flatly. Mutely, Aithne shook her head. Mission stared at her, clearly thinking hard. "Look, I'm not gonna leave you or anything," she said. "Whether it was Griff's idea to leave me or not, whether he meant to come back or not, maybe, he still left me on Taris. And anyway, there's Big Z, and Malak to beat still. But, Aithne, I need to see him. Just not knowing…" She broke off, her young face haunted.

Aithne looked at her hard for a moment, imagining the uncertainty raging inside the girl's head. True, finding out that she had been abandoned might hurt Mission a lot, but without ever being sure of the fact, how could Mission hope to make her peace with it? She nodded finally. "I understand," she said. "We'll go to Tatooine immediately after we hit Korriban. I promise."

Mission nodded seriously. "Good," she said simply. She regarded Aithne for a moment. "This thing with Carth," she said. "Is it bad?"

Aithne nodded. "Very," she said quietly. Mission looked off towards the cockpit. "I hope we get there, soon, then. I don't want him hurt, you know? Well, anymore hurt than he's been already."

"Me neither."

The voyage from Dantooine to Korriban was probably the longest Aithne could have taken. So a few days into it, Aithne was forced to do something besides worry about Carth and his son. So, accordingly, she hunted out Canderous.

"Hey," she said, drawing his attention from the swoop bike he was modifying in the corner. No one ever rode it, but the Mandalorian liked to mess with things, Aithne had discovered, and that machine was his pride and joy.

Canderous turned, wiping his large, greasy, scarred hands with a cloth. "Aithne," he nodded.

"The swoop looks fantastic," Aithne complimented him. "Next planet we hit with a track, you should take it out for a spin."

Canderous grunted. "You're the swoop champion," he remarked. "Why don't you do it?"

Aithne shrugged. "Frankly, swoop-bike racing isn't really my thing. It was more a necessary evil I braved to rescue Bas."

Canderous looked sideways at the swoop bike, considering. "Hmm. Maybe I will," he said.

"Those idiots on the track won't know what hit them," Aithne said. She leaned up against the wall of the ship. "So. You got any more stories?"

"Bored again?" Canderous laughed humorlessly. "Hmm. I think I'll tell you a bit about the recent war with the Republic," he said. "That might be more familiar to you. The one where Jedi Revan beat my people." He spoke Revan's name with a respect Aithne had rarely heard him use.

"Go ahead," she said, intrigued.

Canderous leaned up against the swoop bike, arms crossed. "We started by conquering worlds just outside the Republic," he related easily. "We did it quietly so the Republic wouldn't really know what was going on until too late. When we finally did hit the Republic worlds, they had no idea we were coming." He smiled a bit at the memory. "We came in through three invasion corridors in adjacent sectors. Anyone who put up a fight-or wouldn't fight-was crushed." His face darkened unexpectedly. "We razed whole worlds trying to provoke the Republic into fighting us," he growled. "I don't particularly enjoy wiping out worlds for its own sake, but the cowardly tactics the Republic defenders used left us little choice."

His tone was full of disgust. Aithne was curious. "Tactics such as?" she asked.

Canderous sneered. "Hiding in the homes of civilians," he spat. "Using families as shields. Thinking we would not use appropriate force on their bases inside major cities. They underestimated our resolve and what measures are acceptable in war. Those who cannot defend themselves should not be around those who can in battle." Something flickered in his face, and Aithne found herself focusing on certain words. _In war, _he'd said. _Should not._ Aithne got the feeling that Canderous felt somewhat guilty for the things he and his people had done early on in the Mandalorian Wars. Well, he should, Aithne thought. The devastation had been massive, with civilian casualties by the thousands. Canderous continued, disgusted. "If annihilating a city was the kind of power it took to overcome a Republic shield device, then that's what we did. Necessary force to destroy all opposition."

Aithne looked straight at him, unimpressed. "You don't think you could have found another way?" she asked bluntly.

Canderous turned away angrily. "I have no time or patience for cowards!" he cried. "They deserve to be hunted and exterminated like vermin." He calmed. "There was no honor in wiping them out like rats," he admitted. "But some of your forces did redeem the Republic in our eyes…especially later."

"Later?" Aithne asked.

"Later," Canderous said, his voice caressing the word like it was precious. "When Revan had joined the war. But we'll get back to that some other time."

Aithne nodded respectfully. "Thank you for telling me this much," she said quietly, walking out of the room.

The night before they were due to arrive on Korriban, Aithne found herself eating a rare meal with Jolee. Suddenly, a thought crossed her mind.

Swallowing a bite, Aithne spoke over to Jolee. "You never did say why you decided to come with me," she pointed out.

Jolee snorted. "Oh, well spotted," he sneered. "I never did, did I?"

Aithne laughed at the man's deliberate contrariness. "Are you always going to be this elusive?" she asked.

"Elusive?" Jolee demanded in an injured tone. "Me, elusive? Heh. Obviously you've never tried to grab a Twi'lek dancing girl after drinking too much Ondaran willek juice."

Aithne sighed. "I've never had enough to drink to either want to catch a Twi'lek dancing girl or to expect to find the task difficult. Answer the question."

"I already told you why I wanted to leave," insisted Jolee. "I'd seen everything I wanted to on Kashyyyk. Time to go, time to move on."

"Move on to where, exactly?" Aithne asked pointedly.

"To bed!" Jolee exclaimed. "I'm old and tired, you know."

Aithne chuckled. "Old and _tiring_, perhaps, but I've yet to see you exhausted yourself. Jolee, really."

Jolee sighed. "How many kilometer high trees can you find an interest in before you figure you've had enough?" he demanded. "I'd bet you can't be bothered to stay in one room for more than fifteen minutes! And then there's all the critters in the Shadowlands. I'm just happy to be back in space, doing something new. Is that too much to ask?"

"Of course not," Aithne replied calmly. "But you could have done that yourself. Why did _I_ suddenly awaken in you a desire to do something new?"

"I could have done it myself," admitted Jolee. "Not having a ship does tend to put a damper on that kind of idea, however." Aithne glared at him, and he sagged. "I'll admit, for all its flaws, Kashyyyk was home enough. But when you came along and I saw the destiny you had before you, I couldn't help but be intrigued."

Aithne snorted, skeptical. "So now you know what my destiny is?" She pushed aside her finished platter and turned to face the old hermit, arms crossed.

"Of course not," replied Jolee. "Weren't you listening last time?"

Aithne looked down awkwardly. Now that he mentioned it, she did recall him talking a bit about how the Force around Andor had told him about Andor's 'great' destiny. Jolee smirked.

"I can see you have a destiny before you," he said, "but the details are far from clear." A clouded, puzzled look came over his worn features, and Aithne realized he was examining her aura. "In fact," he said, in a far-off tone, "everything about you that I can see is odd. Slightly off, as if my eyes are trying to trick me. Something…something is very dark about you."

Aithne shifted uncomfortably, but was intrigued regardless. But Jolee shook himself, blinked and waved a hand.

"But bah! I'm sure you don't need to hear my ruminations. You've probably got enough nosy Jedi offering you one opinion after another to make you sick."

Aithne blinked at him, startled. Jolee's eyes were twinkling in understanding. Something twisted inside her, then. "You- you don't even know," she managed to choke out. She gripped Jolee's hand hard then. "Thank you, for that at least."

Jolee patted her hand awkwardly. "Oh, there now," he said nervously. "I wouldn't worry about it too much, if I were you." He smiled. "You remind me a bit of Nomi, heh heh, and that can't be all bad."

Aithne gaped. "You knew her? Wait, are we talking about the same Nomi?"

Jolee nodded. "Nomi Sunrider. She came late to the Force, just as you have, and became one of the greatest Jedi ever. Oh fine, fine lass. Whether you'll follow the same path remains to be seen. For one thing, we'll never get anywhere if you stand around chatting up old men all day."

Aithne sniffed. "So you're coming along…to watch?"

Jolee snorted. "Nonsense! Have I ever refused to help you when you asked? How confused can one person be, anyway? One thing I will say is that this little escapade does remind me a bit of my adventuring days before the war. Ahh…those were exciting times. Or at least it would remind me of those times if we didn't sit around." He scowled. "What's keeping you? You're too young to be so talkative! Shoo! Shoo!"

Laughing, Aithne went, bringing her tray to the washer. Not too long afterwards, she went to sleep.

* * *

><p><em>It had taken far too long, but I'd made it. Malak guarded the door. I smiled beneath my mask. What an odd place to find a Star Map, to be sure. No wonder no one had found it before! I looked around at the crumbling tomb. It wasn't much, but I'd gone through a world of trouble to get here, and the darkness hung thick and inviting about me, singing its sweet song of power. Striding forward, I activated the Map, memorizing its every detail, adding this new information to the coordinates I had in my mind already. We were getting there. As I turned to go, I felt that strange presence at my back once again, watching me.<em>

* * *

><p>When Aithne woke up, for some time she stared at the ceiling. Another "vision". Revan again. At least she wasn't surprised anymore, and the vision had been rather mild this time. Still. It was more than she really wanted to deal with. Finally she kicked aside her bedclothes and got up.<p>

"You have awoken," Juhani observed from her bunk. "We landed on Korriban early this morning. Bastila is in the cockpit. She will want to speak with you."

"I just bet she does," muttered Aithne, pulling on black Echani fiber armor and boots.

Resignedly, Aithne made her way to the cockpit. Bastila rose from her seat as Aithne entered.

"Is this the whole go over the vision bit?" Aithne asked.

Carth shot her a glance with his eyes that were shadowed from too little sleep. Aithne nodded, jaw tight, responding wordlessly to the question in his gaze. _Yes. Another Star Map. Yes. I was Revan again. _

"The Force is guiding us," Bastila announced matter-of-factly. "Helping us retrace the steps of Malak and his old master. Leading us ever closer to the Star Forge." She looked out the window at the rocky surface of Korriban. "There are some who believe Korriban is the birthplace of the Sith," she said. "This planet is an evil place." Looking suddenly at Aithne, deadly serious, she said, "There are secrets here best left uncovered."

_And what does that have to do with me, I wonder, _Aithne thought, but shrugged it off. She guessed she wouldn't get any answers from Bastila now, with the younger Jedi's hooded eyes and guarded expression. "It looked like the Star Map was in some sort of cave," she said, changing the subject. _A tomb, actually, _she mentally corrected, _but only Revan would've known that._

Bastila looked troubled. "During the vision I felt cold and trapped, almost as if I was buried alive. It felt…it felt like we were in some kind of tomb. No doubt things will become more clear once we discover the Star Map's location."

"We?" Aithne asked. "You did say this was a Sith world? Won't they recognize you?"

Bastila sniffed, annoyed. 'Hmmm… maybe you're right," she said reluctantly. "Most of the dark Jedi would only know me by name, but there are a few among them who might recognize my face. For the sake of our mission, I must remain on the Ebon Hawk while we are on this planet," she announced.

Aithne rolled her eyes. At least the woman felt she had a choice now. She leant over the dashboard and pressed the intercom. "Good morning, all," she called. "As you probably noticed while I overslept, we have arrived on Korriban. Group meeting in five. That's it."

She turned to head to the conference room, stopping. "I beg your pardon, Bastila," she said, "were we finished?"

Bastila snorted. "Well now we are," she said sarcastically, falling in line with Aithne and Carth to go to the meeting.

After the entire crew had filed in, Aithne stood at the head of the table, gazing at them.

"Welcome to Korriban, ladies, gentlemen, Wookiees, and droids," she said. "Right. This is a Sith world. There are hundreds of the pestilential worms here, most young, all itching to prove themselves. We tread carefully here."

"Someone's done her homework," Jolee said.

Aithne studied her hands on the table, pensive. "I don't want the Sith getting any idea how many of us are here," she said. "Bastila and Teethree will stay with the _Hawk_ at all times. Juhani? Jolee? Both of you have experience with the Dark Side. We picked up a couple of robes last time some of Malak's goons attacked us. I want you two to pose as fallen Jedi while we're here, got it? Just strut like bullying idiots and you ought to be able to pull it off."

She waited for Juhani and Jolee's nods before continuing. "Good. Mission. Zaalbar. You two can go out and annoy Czerka drones or play Pazaak until Korriban's dry, but I want you with Juhani or Carth at all times." She looked at Zaalbar especially hard then. "There is to be no maiming. I don't want to hear about any murders. Be as unobtrusively annoying as you can. Give false names if you have to, but _low profile_ is your watchword." She considered. "Take some of the excess stuff we picked up on Kashyyyk and try to get a good deal for it. We might need some credits."

Zaalbar nodded. Mission grinned. "Sheesh, _mom_, anything else?"

"Yes," Aithne said. "Shut up." She smiled tightly at Mission, to show she wasn't angry, but Mission caught her tension and became serious.

"We'll be careful, Aithne," Mission said. Aithne nodded.

"Canderous. Jolee." Both older men looked at her. "For the first couple days here, while we're getting our bearings and such, I want you two with me. I'll be posing as a smuggler. Addison Bettler will be my name."

"I wondered why you weren't in Jedi robes," Canderous said.

"Well I can't be Aithne Morrigan," said the same. "There's a general warrant out for her from Malak himself, and she's known to be traveling with Bastila Shan."

"This is a place of great danger," Juhani observed. "Are you sure you would not be better off here with Bastila, Padawan?"

Aithne shook her head. "The Sith don't know what I look like," she said, "And only Bastila and I have the faintest idea where to look for the Star Map. But all the same-" she looked around, "If any of you that are not with me at the time happen to see me, or someone else in the crew not with you, I want you to pretend complete and total ignorance of them. Pass them like a stranger. Don't even look at them. The stronger we appear here, the more power some young bloodthirsty Sith will think he can gain by killing us."

"Are we to hide like vermin?" Canderous demanded. "Aren't we going to fight?"

"I expect we'll have to, eventually," Aithne said. "That's why I want you along. But we're not going to go looking for a fight."

Canderous grumbled something in Mandalorian. Aithne shot him a quelling glare, and he subsided.

"Ok, Canderous. Jolee. Eat something and suit up. We move out in an hour."

The two men nodded. "As for the rest of you? As of now, until I come back here or indicate otherwise, I don't know you. And you don't know me." She looked around at them once, nodded, and exited the conference room.

Behind her, she heard Bastila remark to Carth, "She really is quite good at that."

In an hour, as planned, Aithne left the docking bay with Jolee and Canderous. It was fairly easy to talk the Czerka officer in charge out of charging them the fee, even without using the Force. Apparently, the _Ebon Hawk_ was well known on Korriban, something that Aithne suspected would aid her cover. In fact, it wasn't long before a shifty Duros approached her about some spice that she had in a hidden compartment she had noticed, but had been unable to unlock, even with Mission's help. She went back to the ship briefly to collect it for him, and was able to turn a tidy profit in full sight of several citizens of the desolate world.

Aithne had known that Korriban was a Sith world. It was depressing now to walk around Dreshdae, though, and see exactly how much power the Sith had. Civilians, even visiting merchants, and Czerka employees tread carefully and watched their mouths. The Sith didn't need much of a reason to decide to kill anybody. Aithne also observed that the city was nearly overrun with "hopefuls", young idiots who had decided to come to Dreshdae to try to make it at the Academy.

She ran into a group of hopefuls being interrogated by a Sith that afternoon. Aithne grimaced. There were three of them, and the Sith was not looking happy.

"No, that is the wrong answer," he growled, berating one of the hopefuls. "Again! You pathetic hopefuls can't possibly all be this stupid, can you?"

"P-please, Master Shaardan," stammered one of the hopefuls. "Give us a chance! We'll do anything to get into the Academy!"

Aithne snorted. _As if he'd let you in, _she thought, annoyed. _You're exactly the kind of whining wimp the Sith want to keep out. _

But Shaardan, a handsome, if cruel looking young man about Aithne's own age, stroked his chin. "Hmph," he grunted. "I'm no Master…yet. But I like the sound of that. Alright. One more question, though the lot of you are trying my patience." He thought for a moment, then spoke. "Alright. Let's say you become a Sith and I am your commanding officer. I give you an order to spare the life of an enemy. Do you do it?"

The same flattering hopeful who'd spoken before jumped right in again. "Oh, of course, Shaardan," he cried. "Anything you command us!"

A second hopeful, a female this time, chimed in. "We would never oppose you!"

Aithne snorted. In a low aside to Jolee she said, "Idiots. If they actually were Sith, they ought to first kill their commander for weakness, and then kill the enemy."

Shaardan's eyes flicked to Aithne. She was standing only a few feet away, and he'd heard her. He turned to the hopefuls, sneering. "Do you honestly believe that the Sith are in need of such sniveling cowards?" He shook his head pityingly. "Mercy is a weakness," he explained. 'If your leader shows weakness, it is your duty to kill him and show true authority…true power. That is why the Sith are strong."

The third hopeful spoke up now. "Th-thank you, Shaardan," he cried. "We, uh…we understand now!"

Shaardan sighed, almost regretfully, though his eyes held a sheen that told Aithne it was all theatrics. "No," he said firmly. "You don't understand. And you probably never will. You wouldn't survive five seconds in the Academy…the other students would tear you apart! I can't be bothered with fools! Perhaps…I should…" He seemed to think for a moment, then turned to Aithne abruptly.

"You!" he called, beckoning for her and her companions to join him. "You there!"

Cautiously, Aithne walked forward, holding her face to be emotionless as Shaardan addressed her. "I heard you earlier," he said. "You have the look of someone not quite as dense as these hopefuls. I require your aid for a moment. Let me pose a question to you. These hopefuls will never survive in the Academy. A lesson must be taught, here, but I am at a loss as to what form it should take."

"Well," said Jolee reasonably. "If you can't think of anything cruel you really shouldn't be out here, young man, should you?"

Shaardan rounded on Jolee with a snarl. "I wasn't talking to you!" he spat. He turned back to Aithne, a polite smile frozen on his features like a mask. "I'm thinking to spare them the effort of being killed and do it myself. Perhaps I shall turn their skin inside out? Or Force Lightning? It is a most impressive display. Or perhaps a bit of humiliation is in order? I could easily strip off their tunics and make them run through the colony. Or they could lose all control of their bodily functions…" he trailed off, delighted with his own gruesome visions. "What do you think?" he asked deferentially. "I just can't seem to decide."

Aithne looked at him. She struggled to keep her face impassive. Honestly, she didn't know who she was angrier at, the cold-blooded, conceited Sith, or the hopefuls that were stupid enough to think they could make it here. Finally she said, "You can't just kill them."

One hopeful, sensing mercy, fell to his knees. "Please! Help us!"

"Silence!" Shaardan cried, casting all three hopefuls into a Force Stasis. He turned to Aithne, laughing a little. "Of course I can kill them. The Sith can do whatever they like on Korriban, and frankly these worms rather deserve it. That's for you to decide, however."

Aithne forced a rather unpleasant smile. "Even squashing a worm makes a mess, Shaardan, was it? And excuse me if I'm wrong, but don't the Sith usually kill for effect? These idiots already acknowledge your superiority." She shot the idiots in question a look of disdain she didn't even have to feign. "They're practically wallowing in inferiority. What will destroying them say about you?" She sniffed. "Anyone could do it. Let them go."

Shaardan had been smiling. Now he frowned. "Let them go? What could possibly convince me to do that?"

Aithne didn't even think. She smiled ironically and batted her eyelashes. "But killing them is wrong!" she said in a high, breathless voice.

Shaardan looked momentarily dazed. Then he burst out laughing. "Now _that_ has to be the funniest thing I've heard all day," he said, as soon as he caught his breath. "Well fine, whoever you are, since you've proven such a good sport…" He disabled the Force Stasis, and waved the hopefuls away. "The boys can run off. I'm sure your little lesson will give them something to chew on."

Aithne smiled insincerely. "I hope it does," she said politely, brushing past Shaardan without a backwards glance.

"You did that particularly well," Jolee complimented her.

Aithne scowled. "I wanted to throw him into a wall," she said. "But thanks."

"The way you knew exactly what to say was especially impressive," Jolee went on. "Almost as if you knew what he had to be thinking."

Aithne scoffed. "He's just as weak as they are, really. You saw how he preened when that hopeful called him 'Master'? People like Shaardan run on flattery and the delusion of their own superiority. It makes them that much easier to take down, and far more amusing. You just compliment them. Oblige their wish to think themselves rulers supreme, and then while they're busy thinking how clever they are you pull the rug out from under them."

Jolee looked sideways at Aithne. Aithne frowned, wondering what his problem was. She went back through her last little speech in her head, and was suddenly very uneasy. And yet it was _true_, she thought rebelliously.

"Let's hit the Cantina," Aithne said, looking away. "I'm starving."

"Fine by me," Canderous grunted.

The three of them headed to the cantina. Just as they entered, three Sith exited, looking incredibly pleased with themselves. Aithne tensed.

"Look here, my dear friends," said the tall blonde in the lead. "We have a group of newcomers to our little colony. I don't believe I've seen any of them before. Have you?"

The three fanned out to get into better attack position.

Canderous removed the safety on his big gun. "You should turn around and move along, kid," he advised. "You don't want the trouble we'd give you."

The blonde laughed merrily. "Smart-mouthed newcomers to boot," she said to her friends, still not addressing Aithne and her companions directly.

One of the others chuckled grimly. "Looks pretty fresh to me, Lashowe," he said.

"That's what I thought," Lashowe said. She put her hands on her hips and faced the group. "Well, strangers…I don't know whether you're aware of this or not, but here on Korriban the Sith do as they please. And we are Sith."

"Really now?" Aithne murmured.

Lashowe's eyes flashed. "Quite literally, whether you live or die depends upon our whim. What do you think of that, hmmm?"

Aithne crossed her arms and gave the blonde the once-over. "I'm not too impressed, actually. If you like, you can try to kill us. You'd fail, but you can try."

"Those are very brave words for such an insignificant person," Lashowe said in a low voice. "Do you not realize how many Sith are here in Dreshdae?"

Jolee raised his hand like a child in a classroom. "Twelve?" he asked eagerly. "No, wait, thirteen!"

"Nice one, old man," Canderous complimented him.

"Thank you," Jolee said. "It takes effort to be properly irreverent at my age."

The Sith had been gradually turning red in the face throughout this exchange. One of the men with Lashowe turned to her now. "Let me kill this one, Lashowe!" he begged, indicating Jolee. "Let me do it!"

"Now, now," Lashowe clucked at him. "Let's not be hasty. Perhaps our friend here could yet offer up some amusement." She eyed Aithne coldly. "What do you say? Amuse us. Make us laugh, and we just might consider allowing you to live."

Aithne kept her arms crossed, but widened her stance a bit. "I'm not looking for trouble, but I'm not here to amuse you," she said.

Lashowe's eyes widened. "Oh? I see. We'll just have to see about that, won't we?" she said.

One of her friends, the one on Jolee's right, laughed. "Looks like this one's not afraid of you at all, Lashowe," he said.

Lashowe glared at him. "Are you going to let us be insulted?" she demanded.

The other man, on Canderous' left, waved Lashowe away. "Oh, get over yourself already. I'm tired of this."

The first man nodded. "Yeah, this one's got some backbone, at least. Let's go," he said to his friend. The two men turned and began to walk away. Lashowe snarled.

"Fine," she said sulkily at last. Glaring at Aithne as she walked past, she said in a low, poisonous whisper, "I'll deal with _you _later."

Aithne turned deliberately, and walked into the cantina with her friends, ignoring the Sith woman. The three of them ordered their food, walking past the Pazaak table, where some Rodian addict was yelling about how a Twi'lek child had beaten him.

The three of them found seats with two hopefuls.

"Hello," Aithne said to them. "I'm Addison Bettler, and these are my companions Jolee and Canderous." Aithne had noticed that Malak's death order had contained no mention of her friends, and it was unlikely that anyone had heard of Jolee in twenty years at least.

The hopefuls looked a bit confused, but didn't look angry at Aithne's intrusion. Both were humans, a young man and woman in their teens.

The man shook Aithne's hand. "I'm Thaddeus Nelson," he said, "and this is my friend Leni Cooper. What brings you to Korriban?"

"A bit of this and that," Aithne said breezily. "Buying, selling. You know how it is."

Thaddeus looked her up and down, taking in her black armor and big sword, and tough-looking companions. "I think so," he said warily.

"So," Aithne said subtly, acting like she didn't really care about the answer. "You two looking to get into the Academy here?"

"Yes," Leni answered firmly. "We both hope to become Sith soon."

Aithne nudged Jolee under the table, and he began, playing along. "Seems like the galaxy's changing, doesn't it? The Sith might rule it all soon. What can you tell us about the Academy?"

"Why do you want to know?" asked Leni suspiciously, narrowing her eyes, suddenly looking over Aithne and her friends as if they might be competition.

"Might be important to know about the Sith, if they take over the galaxy, don't you think?" Aithne asked.

The two hopefuls conceded the point. They revealed to Aithne what they knew, which turned out not to be much. No one was allowed inside the Academy walls except those that were training to become Sith.

"And that's nearly impossible," laughed Thaddeus harshly. "You only get in by receiving a medallion from one of the Sith already attending the Academy, or if Master Yuthura approves you."

"Who's Master Yuthura?" asked Aithne.

"She's a Twi'lek Sith Master in charge of admissions," Leni answered. "She comes in here every few days to scout for new recruits, but she's tough."

"Have you talked to her?" Jolee asked.

"Only about seven times," laughed Thaddeus. "She said the next time either of us came up she'd skin us alive and hang us from the rafters. It's either medallions or bust for us now. But we'll get in."

"We have to," said Leni.

"When's she coming in next?" Aithne asked.

Leni shrugged. "She came in yesterday, so I'd guess tomorrow at the earliest."

"Have you met any of the other Sith?" Jolee asked.

"A few," Thaddeus said.

The two hopefuls proceeded to give Aithne and her companions the lowdown on some of the younger Sith students. It turned out that Lashowe was well known as a bully and a braggart, but she rarely actually hurt anyone, and she always traveled with others. Shaardan actually was one of the helpful ones, the teens told her, and while he sometimes killed and embarrassed stupid and careless hopefuls, he also was liable to instruct them, and sometimes gave out medallions. They'd met a shy young man they'd heard was up for Sith testing soon. His name was Kel Algwinn.

"I don't know how he ever got into the Academy," Leni spat contemptuously. "He never talks to anyone, never hurts anyone, and never gives out a single medallion."

"I mean, Dustil Onasi's polite enough, too, but at least he's a proper Sith," agreed Thaddeus.

Beside Aithne, Canderous blinked, and Aithne felt Jolee tense. Both of them were very careful not to look at her, though, and she was grateful. It was hard enough keeping her own face in check.

"Dustil? You haven't mentioned him before," she said casually. "Tell me about him."

"He's one of the best Sith in the Academy," Leni gushed dreamily. "Just our age, too. It wouldn't surprise me if he's due to be shipped out to war soon."

"He's not _that_ great," muttered Thaddeus. "Leni just thinks he's good-looking."

"Well he _is_," murmured Leni rebelliously.

They went on to talk about Dustil Onasi's strength in the Force. He apparently was quite pleasant to all the hopefuls, but hardly let anyone into the Academy. The other Sith didn't mess with him much, they said. They'd seen him Force Push a fellow Sith fifty feet into a wall for rudeness. Leni maintained that he was quite clever. Thaddeus disagreed, but Aithne didn't. The boy was Carth's son, after all. All in all, ithe report was that Dustil was powerful, intelligent, and very polite, as promising a young Sith as ever they'd seen, though Thaddeus did say that Dustil was somewhat less ruthless and cruel than might be expected.

"Nothing like Mekel," said Thaddeus darkly.

"Who's Mekel?" Aithne asked.

"He's another one of the apprentices up for testing this month," Leni said. "I hear he's been torturing Bart and some others outside for a few days now," she told Thaddeus.

"It's true," Thaddeus said. "I've seen them. He's starving them until he thinks they're worthy to be Sith."

"I bet it's just another trick," Leni said, "but if they get into the Academy!" Her eyes shone.

"Does Mekel often trick others?" Jolee asked.

"All the time," Thaddeus said. "He thinks it's 'dreadful fun' to find stupid hopefuls and trick them to death, promising he'll let them into the Academy."

"It's no more than the idiots deserve," Leni said, "but still…"

Aithne finished her food and stood. She shook Thaddeus and Leni's hands. "Well, thank you for the information. This has been most enlightening. I hope we meet again."

"Do you really?" Jolee asked, as they left.

"Not in the slightest," Aithne said without hesitation. "Nelson's nice enough. I only wonder why he's stupid enough to want to be a Sith. But Leni's ruthless and zealous. She'll make Sith soon, as long as she's smart enough to stop hanging out with Thaddeus."

"I liked her," Canderous said. Aithne rolled her eyes. No surprise there. "Where to?" he grunted.

"Outside," Aithne said shortly. "I want to meet this Mekel. Maybe I can help the hopefuls or something."

Aithne and the others traversed the barren rocks outside of the Dreshdae walls, following the path to the Academy, a long, low, grim looking building. An armored guard stood at the gate. To the left of the building, several men panted. They were pale, with rings under their eyes, and chapped lips. Across the way, a tall, vicious looking man stood, arms crossed, smiling in satisfaction, especially at the three or so corpses that lay next to the survivors in the line.

Aithne walked up to the man.

He turned hardened eyes to look at her with a bored expression. "Is there something you want?" he drawled.

"If you're Mekel," Aithne said, fighting to control her voice. Her fists clenched. This whole thing was starting to get to her. All the Sith, all the cruelty, all the subterfuge. And the fact that she still hadn't heard anything of the Star Map or formulated any shadow of a plan to get to Dustil Onasi.

"And what if I am?" said the man.

"Then do something about those idiots over there!" Aithne ordered, gesturing behind her. "They're dying!"

"That is the whole point," Mekel spat. "Personally, I think it's wonderful fun. Those fools actually think that if they stand there long enough, I'll let them become a Sith." He looked at said fools vindictively. "Idiots. A Sith is not a bantha, all endurance and no brains. A Sith would fight for his life, no matter the odds. If these rotgrubs are as stupid as they seem, then they deserve their fate!"

His hatred hit Aithne with incredible force. She winced as the wave washed over her, and a small part of her cringed as the larger part rose up with an anger to match. "You mean this isn't a real test for them?" she asked in a low voice. Her right hand twitched. She played with taking his head off right there, but Jolee stepped forward just a little, and Aithne recalled what a very stupid idea that would be.

Mekel chuckled. "Oh, it's a test alright," he said. "It's a test to see if they're actually fool enough to die. If they don't however, I certainly wouldn't admit them just for that accomplishment."

Jolee smiled unpleasantly. "Why not just shoot them where they stand?" he asked rhetorically. "It would at least be more direct."

Canderous nodded sagely. "It's what I would do," he said.

Jolee looked at Canderous with disgust. "Of course that's what _you_ would do," he sighed.

Mekel considered for a moment. "It is a bit boring standing out here all day," he admitted. "I think I'll go in for some dinner…it'll be fun to think of them while I gorge myself."

His eyes darted to Aithne's hand, the one that had twitched earlier, and up to the double vibrosword strapped to her back. He grinned predatorily, as if daring her to defy him. Aithne sneered, but she thought of Carth and Dustil, and managed to remain stationary.

Mekel shrugged, disappointed. "They'll still be here in an hour or two, surely. I suggest you run along before I decide to make you a part of the fun."

"One problem with that, Mekel," Aithne said as he left. He turned to face her, raising one eyebrow. "Making me part of the fun, that is." She paused, and grinned with every bit as much steel and teeth as he had a moment earlier. "I'm no idiot. Enjoy your supper."

As he turned to go again, Aithne was gratified to see him look a little unnerved. As soon as Mekel was gone, Aithne walked over to one of the hopefuls trying his utmost just to stand upright.

He fought to meet her eyes. "You…you talked to Mekel?" he rasped. "Have I proved my worth? Did he say anything?"

Aithne looked him up and down coldly. He really was an idiot. And he was close to death in any case. "He said you should go home," she lied. "The Sith aren't for you."

The man's eyes widened. "Go…home?" he stammered. He crumpled. Aithne caught him, but it was too late. He was gone. She dropped him, kicking the wall angrily.

"You should've let me kill him, Jolee," she growled, referring to Mekel.

"No, I shouldn't have," Jolee replied calmly. "You'll be wanting in that Academy to save the pilot's son, I'll wager, and also because the Sith are probably all over the Star Map. For that to happen, you need the Sith to like you."

Aithne rounded upon him, eyes blazing. Then she let out a growl of frustration. He was right. She kicked the wall again.

"I hate this place," she said. "I hate just _watching_ them, and not being able to _do_ anything. But it's not just that, Jolee. The very air _burns_."

"That's the Dark Side you're feeling, lass."

Aithne looked away from the old Jedi. She knew. The Dark Side ran through the very marrow of this place. It was under her skin. She could feel it there like a virus, hot and itchy. Intoxicating, demanding, and powerful. She did not spurn the Dark Side like the Jedi, but neither did she want it to overcome her, to rule her existence like it did the Sith, and she felt that here, falling into the dark would be far too easy.

Aithne was able to talk one of the remaining idiots at the wall into leaving, the very Bart that Leni and Thaddeus had mentioned.

"Let's go," she said in a toneless voice.

They went back to the _Hawk_ in silence. Carth met her at the door. He grabbed her arm and steered her into the cargo hold. "Well?"

Aithne sighed. "He's here. One of the Academy's best and brightest, according to report. We have to hurry. One of the hopefuls said he might be shipped out to the war soon."

Carth's face twisted into an agonizing mix of hope and disappointment. Half of him had hoped that Jordo had been mistaken, Aithne knew. Almost better that Dustil had died on Telos with his mother than to find him a Sith.

"Did you see him?" Carth demanded in a low voice.

"No. He's a Sith. All the Sith are in the Academy most of the time. And only Sith are allowed in the Academy."

"What are you going to do?" Carth asked.

Aithne closed her eyes. Jolee had said it. The solution was obvious, really. Easy to say. But execution was going to be so, so difficult. "I'm going to do the only thing I can, Carth. I'm going to become a Sith."

A few minutes later, Aithne exited the cargo hold. Carth headed to the cockpit, where he usually found a bit of peace, even when he wasn't piloting. Aithne, however, headed to the women's dorms. When she heard voices, though, she stopped in the corridor. There were four of them. Canderous, Mission, Jolee, and Bastila were in the workroom. Aithne didn't want to interrupt, she turned to go, then she heard her name.

"I'm worried about Aithne," Mission said.

"She has been acting very strange of late," Bastila agreed. "I have sensed an unusual amount of anger and worry from her lately. Fear as well, but not for herself."

"It's Carth," Jolee said. "His son is here. A Sith. One of the best in the Academy."

"Oh," Mission breathed. "That's awful! I knew something had happened with Carth. She told me that much. But this…"

"You knew of this?" Bastila demanded. "Mission, you would have done well to say something. Aithne's fear for Carth may lead her to act unwisely."

Canderous let out a gravelly laugh. "Unwisely? Princess, that woman would go to hell and back for Onasi, and you know it."

"I am more worried about her going to the Dark Side for him, and being unable to return," Bastila sniffed.

"She plans to do just that," Jolee said. "Or, at least, to pretend to. She's going to try to get into the Academy. The trick will be making sure the act does not become her reality. She has…she has much anger in her. And much frustration."

"I know," Bastila said in a low, sad voice. "Jolee, Mission? Promise me you'll watch her. Help her. She won't talk to me about any of it, you know she won't. Canderous, you, too. Protect her."

Aithne decided this had gone far enough. She didn't need anyone's protection. It was beyond anything! They acted like she was a time bomb that might go off at any time!

She strode into the room, looking from one to the other of them. Bastila blushed a deep red. Jolee and Canderous looked away. Only Mission looked steadily back at her. "This bucket's kind of small, isn't it?" Aithne said. "So hard to find privacy, don't you think?"

"How much did you hear?" Jolee asked.

"Enough." Aithne said shortly. "I don't need watching, Bastila," she told the younger Jedi. "I can take care of myself."

"We're just worried about you," Mission said. "You're so wound up, and you've hardly talked to anyone for days!"

"I'm _fine_," Aithne said coldly, sweeping past the thunderstruck four to the women's dormitory.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I always thought that there would be some residual memories, residual patterns of behavior, going on inside of the Revan character's head on Korriban, even if you don't do it last like a lot of people do. Aithne gets kind of scary here on Korriban at times. I love writing this part of the story...**

**Please leave a review if you've read and enjoyed this. Thank you.**

**May the Force Be With You,**

**LMSharp**


	22. Incognito In the Academy

**Disclaimer: No, no, no. Give your glory for KotOR to the brilliant minds that actually own it.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Twenty-Two<p>

Aithne woke late the next mood, and in a foul temper. She shrugged on her black armor again, and equipped her meanest double vibrosword. She ate breakfast alone, thinking things over. She would have to take Carth with her once she had been admitted to the Sith Academy, but the fighting she might do to get in she had promised to Canderous. She wanted Jolee with her, today and in the Academy. She didn't honestly know if Juhani could pretend to be evil without actually becoming evil, and she trusted Jolee to alert her if she started exhibiting such behavior herself. But on Korriban, she wanted another Force-wielder with her.

She finished her breakfast, threw her tray in the washer and stomped to the med bay. "Ready to go, old man?" she asked tightly, forcing a smile. He was, oddly enough, dressed in civilian clothes.

"I'm more ready than you are," he muttered into his beard. Aithne bit her lip, but didn't reply.

"Canderous," she barked as they passed into the workroom. Canderous pulled out his big gun. Aithne nodded.

"Let's go see if we can find Master Yuthura," she said.

The three made their way to the cantina, and sure enough, sitting in a chair near the back of the establishment, garbed in a simple Sith workday uniform, was a tall, determined-looking purple Twi'lek with extensive and elaborate tattoos. Aithne walked right over and sat at the woman's table. The woman's eyebrows shot up, and Aithne couldn't tell if she was more angry or amused or impressed.

"Is there something you need, human?" she asked, and amusement seemed to have won out. "Make it good, for I have little patience."

Canderous and Jolee pulled over a couple chairs and sat behind Aithne. "You're Yuthura Ban," Aithne said. It was not a question.

"I am," replied Yuthura. "Obviously you have been told of me. Is it your desire, then, to train at the Academy? Do you wish to become a Sith, human?"

Aithne looked levelly at the Sith. "I might. Right now, I'd just like to know what's up with this Academy. The name's Addison Bettler. I was on a smuggling run, and wound up here. I like to keep up with what's happening in the galaxy, and the Sith seem to be the next big thing, if you know what I mean. So, I want to know about the Sith. You seem to be the one to talk to, from all I hear. What can you tell me?"

Yuthura smiled leisurely. "We wield ultimate power, my friend," she said, her voice low and passionate. "To be a Sith is to taste freedom and to know victory. Nothing is as glorious as bending the Force to your will."

Aithne felt her heart rate pick up a bit at the words. She swallowed. "Glory? I find it hard to see the glory in the many bodies of dead hopefuls I've seen since my arrival yesterday. More of a mess, really." She kept the words hard and casual by sheer force of will.

Yuthura scowled. "We make no apologies for the weak," she snapped. "If you cannot clench your fist and know when the moment comes to strike, there is no place for you amongst us. Of those who come to train, those who are weak return home. If they are both weak and foolish, they die…but it was their choice to come."

Aithne had to acknowledge the truth of that, even if it was a bit harsh. The original fault lay in the hopeful, though that did not absolve the Sith of their murders. "What say you of the Jedi?" she asked, switching tacks. The plan was to get Yuthura invested in her even before asking to train at the Academy. The Sith Master was still talking to her, so Aithne guessed that it was working.

Yuthura sneered. "Hide-bound relics who burden themselves with tradition and with the protection of the weak and ungrateful. They are pitiful and misguided. Why would you take a gift as glorious as the Force and squander it? Weaken yourself deliberately and shackle yourself to outdated mores? Our gift has made us superior. It is our rightful place to rule. How can any deny that? Yet the Jedi do so…and call us 'evil' because we do not."

Aithne had to disagree that the Jedi burdened themselves with the protection of the weak. Far more often, she found fault with the Jedi for refusing or delaying to help those who could not help themselves. But the second half of Yuthura's answer interested her. "You don't consider yourself evil?" she asked.

Yuthura smiled. "Is the sarkath beast who dominates his jungle evil? The tuk'ata who leaps on the squellbug for the kill? These are things of nature, of the universe. We are no different from this. The Force is part of the universe, part of the same laws. We were gifted to set us above the rest…to deny nature is foolish."

Aithne found herself somewhat fascinated with Yuthura's eloquence. The Twi'lek woman was better with words than Canderous. She was reasonable, passionate, persuasive. But still, Aithne disagreed with the fundamental principles behind her reasoning. Ruthlessness and predator-prey relationships were indeed part of nature. But sentience came with a certain responsibility to rise above that primal mindset. In order for people to live together, there had to be some order, some protection for the weak.

"Don't you serve the Dark Side, though?" was all she said to Yuthura.

"It is the Jedi who serve the Force," Yuthura corrected firmly. "Trying to discern its wishes like frightened old men staring at the stars. The Force serves _us_. We shape it to our will. We are its master. The Jedi deny their darkness, but we revel in it, we allow it to fuel our strength."

_In other words, yes, you serve the Dark Side, _Aithne thought, unimpressed. _It controls you, and you ignore the Light Side just as foolishly as the Jedi ignore the Dark. _"Where does Darth Malak fit into all this?" she asked.

"You know the name?" asked Yuthura, impressed. Aithne hid a smile. _Know the name? I'm on his personal hit list, lady._ "Malak is the strongest of us," she explained, "and the strongest always rules…" she smiled nastily. "At least until one who is stronger can take it from him."

Aithne smiled here, too, picturing taking Malak down a peg or two. Yuthura narrowed her eyes, and Aithne realized that the emotion was inappropriate at the moment. "That is our way," Yuthura finished. "Survival of the fittest. You are always on guard, always lean for the kill. We promote it, for through this the Sith are stronger."

Aithne nodded, forcing a considering expression upon her face, and steeling herself for her next words. "I see…about joining you?"

Yuthura laughed. "You've heard enough, have you? So what is it to be? Are you here to be a Sith or not?"

Keeping her face perfectly flat, Aithne answered. "Yes, I'll join the Sith." Like she was not at all uncertain of acceptance. Like she was doing Yuthura a favor.

Yuthura's eyes went distant for a moment, as she probed Aithne with the Force. Aithne left her Force sensitivity for the woman to see, left her aura, but cloaked her emotions and the bundle of feelings that was her Force signature, so to speak.

"Are you just another hopeful, then?" Yuthura asked after a moment. "I think not. There is something odd about you that I cannot place…I sense that you are very strong in the Force…You have already honed some of your Force abilities, Addison. Jedi training, is it?" and her voice was layered with suspicion.

Aithne crossed her arms and leaned back lazily. "Some old man taught me a few tricks a couple planets back," she said, sounding as bored as possible, every inch the jaded smuggler. "Very informal, and eventually I got tired of his muttering and left."

Yuthura bought it. "As I thought," she said, confused. "How interesting that they would let one with such power out of their grasp. Or are you here to spy on us?" she suddenly said, laughing a little. "For all the good it would do. With that kind of power, you could become a great Sith. Does that interest you?" she purred.

"Yes," Aithne said firmly. But somehow, the simple word triggered Yuthura's suspicions. Perhaps it was not said as eagerly as some of the hopefuls she interviewed. Perhaps there had been a suspicious lack of detail in Aithne's mind, and now the lack of detail in her reasoning for joining just made Aithne too much of a risk. But Yuthura shook her head at last.

"I see," she said. "Somehow, however, I am unconvinced. No, my friend, I'll not be the one to bring you into our Academy. If one of the other Sith accepts you and gives you a medallion, then perhaps. But otherwise…not today. Run along now." She waved an imperious hand at Aithne, and the woman rose, trailed by her companions, and left.

"Now what?" grunted Canderous.

Aithne grinned, not pleasantly. She was even more annoyed than she'd been this morning after Yuthura's rejection. But Canderous would enjoy this next part.

"Now, Ordo, we pick a fight with some Sith."

They had not long to wait. Soon a young group of Sith, fresh off from a training session, showed up. The five of them had only recently been admitted to the Academy, and had just started learning to use the Force. Now they were intent on abusing their powers to make someone suffer, just as they themselves had suffered as hopefuls.

"You can leave or die," Aithne said, after the Sith had taunted her suitably. Of course, the Sith couldn't reasonably turn down a fight with a woman who looked like a mere civilian, and Canderous got his first fight in weeks.

It was sadly short. The young Sith were overconfident, and Jolee was able to take them by surprise with Force attacks while Aithne cut them down with her vibroblade, only using Force powers when it would be difficult for observers to tell that _she _was using them. Canderous was downright gleeful as he fired off his big gun again and again, blowing holes in the leader of the little group of bullies.

At the end of the fight, Aithne looked down at the sad bloody mess with distaste. "Search the bodies," she instructed Canderous in a dead voice. Canderous did so, coming up with a medallion. Aithne polished the medallion on her shirt sleeve, which fortunately had little blood on it. "Sorry," she told the dead bullies. "But you know how it is. It's fight or leave here. And I don't exactly have the luxury of leaving."

She turned to Canderous. "Thanks for your help, Ordo. I need you to go to the _Hawk_ and get Onasi, if you would. Tell him to come to the cantina. Jolee, Carth, and I are going to try to get into the Academy again."

Canderous nodded, turned, and left the scene. "Let's start heading to the cantina," Aithne said. "Carth ought to catch up later."

Jolee and Aithne headed through Dreshdae towards the cantina again.

"When you become a Sith, you can feel the power coursing through you!" An elated male voice came through the hall. A man's scream rang out. Aithne whirled and ran towards the sound.

A man stood there in the doorway of a shop, Force Lightning emanating from his fingers into the body of another man. A Twi'lek woman stood there, hands to her mouth, horrified at the sight.

"Hey!" Aithne shouted out.

"Help me, please help me! He's going to kill me!" the Twi'lek woman cried out.

The man rounded on Aithne. "Can I help you?" he asked nastily. The tortured man the Sith had been shooting Lightning into slumped to the floor, dead.

"You- you can't just kill people because you feel like it!" Aithne yelled. "What- what is this?"

The man laughed in her face. "The Sith can do whatever they want!" he declared.

Aithne suddenly felt cold. Anger coursed through her like a river of molten lava, but she felt cold. "I am sick and tired of hearing that," she said softly. "And I'm not going to let you kill that woman."

"You're not going to let me?" the Sith asked, incredulous. "Maybe I'll just deal with you first!"

That was it. Aithne's hands shot out, and the man flew into a wall fifteen feet away. He slid down the wall. He looked up at her, dazed and confused. Aithne reached out with the Force then and shot her own Lightning into the sadistic Sith. He screamed.

"Addison," Jolee said quietly. Aithne shook her head. She was seeing red.

"Hmmm," she said to the Sith in a controlled voice. "You know, having this kind of power- it's kind of intoxicating now that you mention it. In fact, I'm enjoying this so much, I think I might try the hot-blooded murder side of things, too. I mean, you enjoyed it, didn't you, scum?" she asked, shooting another round of Lightning into the man. "You enjoyed torturing that civilian to death. Didn't you?"

Another round of Lightning. The man screamed.

"Aithne!" came a voice from behind her. A shot rang out then, and the Sith collapsed to the floor, dead, a single blaster wound through his brain.

Aithne turned. Carth strode up. "Canderous told me you were on your way to the cantina. Aithne, what the hell was that?"

"I'm Addison out here, Carth," Aithne said in a low voice, still quivering with rage.

"And Addison tortures people to death?" Carth demanded, but he kept his voice low.

Aithne looked at the body of the man the Sith had killed, nonplussed. "He- he'd just done the same," she said weakly. "He was going to do it again."

"And normally you would have just sliced him open with your vibroblade and left it at that, not prolonged it!" Carth said angrily. "What's going on? Look, I know we have to get inside the Sith Academy. But don't become one of them. Be yourself, _Aithne_. Not them."

Aithne looked at the body of the sadistic Sith that Carth had killed, with that single bolt, and she began to tremble. She felt the residue electricity in her fingers, felt the sickening black rage within herself. "Force," she whispered. Her knees buckled, and a wave of nausea rose in her stomach. She staggered over to a corner, and vomited. She managed to step away from the pool of sick a few paces before she collapsed to her knees, sobbing hysterically.

Jolee edged away nervously. Carth stepped forward. He grabbed her hands roughly, and pulled her up into his arms. "Hush," he said. "It's okay. You won't do it again. It's okay."

Aithne shook. "That's the second time," she wailed. "That's the second time, Carth. It's always there, down inside, just waiting for the opportunity! I'll never be free of it! And oh, they deserve it, they deserve it, but what kind of person am I?" She wasn't making any sense, but Carth understood her somehow. He stiffened. Aithne looked up at him through bleary eyes, and for the first time, saw a hint of the fears there that plagued her all the time. She sobbed again. He got it. He knew what she was. How long would he stay, knowing? Then he wrapped his arms more tightly around her, drawing her closer to his chest, but he was still tense. He kissed her hair, but Aithne could feel him looking at the body of the Sith behind them, still faintly smoking.

Still, eventually she quieted, and she wiped her eyes, furious at her display of weakness. Jolee stepped back out.

"It'll be alright, lass," he said, patting her shoulder awkwardly. "We all of us make mistakes. We have to move on."

Aithne nodded. "Right. We have to move on." She shot a look at Carth, and he nodded, but he wasn't looking at her. She ignored the pang it sent through her. "Let's go meet back up with Yuthura," she said.

By the time Aithne reached the cantina, she was mistress of herself once again, and fully back in the persona of smuggler Addison Bettler. Luckily, Yuthura was still stationed at her table at the back. When Aithne walked up, she curled a lip.

"You again? What do you wish now?"

Aithne pulled out the Sith medallion from her pocket, twirling it in front of Yuthura. "Well, you see, I picked up this medallion hereabouts. Thought you might want to take a look at it."

"_Picked it up_, did you?" asked Yuthura wryly, taking in the flecks of blood on Aithne and Jolee's clothing. "Impressive. You are lucky, Addison Bettler, for I am in a forgiving mood. I will take you to the Academy and we shall see if you are ready to join the ranks of the Sith. I have only one other question." Her eyes darted to Carth and Jolee, checking briefly to see Carth standing behind Aithne in the place of Canderous. "These companions of yours? They will not be coming with you, I presume?"

"Your presumption would be incorrect," Aithne said coolly. "They are slaves. You needn't worry about them."

Carth raised his eyebrows slightly. Yuthura smirked.

"My hearing's not so good," mumbled Jolee. "I'm just pleased my nice master doesn't beat me so much anymore, yes ma'am."

Yuthura's expression clouded over for a moment. Aithne held her breath, very glad that Jolee had seen fit to change into civilian clothes today. She'd wondered…it was still risky, bringing him and calling him a slave. "There is…something odd about this servant of yours," Yuthura said. But whatever she had been probing for, she found nothing, for her expression cleared, and she said, "No matter. Make sure they don't disturb your training or cause trouble. You are responsible for them. Now…are you ready to go to the Academy?"

Aithne nodded. "Might as well," she shrugged.

Yuthura smiled at Aithne's seeming lack of enthusiasm. "Then let us leave," she said, rising from her seat and striding forward with a fluid grace. "The Master of the Academy awaits you."

With Yuthura Ban leading, Aithne had no trouble gaining access to the Sith Academy. She was immediately struck by the differences between the Sith Academy and the Jedi Enclave on Dantooine. On Dantooine, there had been much that was grand, and lots of vegetation. The Academy was all metal and concrete, with no vegetation or ornamentation to be seen. It was a building of pure utility, harsh even. Lightsabers hummed through the walls, and you could hear the odd scream ring out through the hallways.

_What a cheery place, _thought Aithne. Yuthura led Aithne straight to the center of the Academy, where some sort of assembly seemed to be taking place. Aithne picked out Lashowe, Shaardan, and Mekel in the small crowd that was gathered around a tall, tattooed man with yellow eyes.

"Greetings, prospective students," he was saying. He suddenly caught sight of Yuthura and Aithne, and stopped what he'd been saying. "Ah. It appears we have a late entry," he said instead. "Who do you bring before me, Yuthura? A young human, bristling with the Force?"

Yuthura bowed. "A human that has had some training, it seems, Master Uthar. Very promising, I think."

Lashowe took in Aithne and Jolee, and sneered. "I met this one in the colony the other day," she spoke up. "Unworthy, if you ask me."

"Um, Lashowe?" Aithne said. "No one did."

Uthar laughed, and Lashowe fumed. "I'll judge that for myself, thank you," Uthar told them both. "Tell me, human, what do you know of the ways of the Sith? What preconceptions has your mind been polluted with?"

Aithne groaned inwardly. She could already tell he was going to be as long-winded as Master Zhar at his finest. But she put on her tough face and answered. "Honestly? I've killed too many Sith to still have any preconceptions."

Uthar raised a tattooed brow. "Most impressive," he said. "If it is true. Those who were too weak to stand against you deserved their fate, so expect no retribution from us. There is much you can learn from the Sith, and we from you. The Jedi equate the Light with goodness and strength and the Dark with weakness and evil. That is their tradition and it is truly no surprise that they cling to it for comfort. We, however, do not treat the Force as a burden." And now he was addressing the entire group again. "We treat it as a gift, a thing to be celebrated. We use it to acquire power over others…and why should we not? Because the Jedi say we should not? We are as the Force is meant to be. The Jedi would hide that form you. They would tell you the Dark Side is too quick, too easy, all so that they need never challenge the passions that lie within them."

Aithne disagreed. Hiding your passions was very difficult, and very dangerous. The Jedi didn't want to leave the passions unchallenged; they wanted to pretend they didn't exist. The Sith didn't challenge their passions either, as far as Aithne could tell. They were ruled by them.

Uthar continued. "Joining with us means realizing your true potential. It means not stifling yourself solely for the sake of hide-bound shamans and their antiquated notions of order. Be what you were meant to be."

_Well, Uthar, you've done a splendid job of telling us what the Sith are _not_, _thought Aithne. _Would it be too terribly hard to tell us what they _are_? _

"What say you, Lashowe?" he was asking. "Are you ready to learn the secrets of the Dark Side? Dare you?"

Lashowe's face glowed with passion. "I dare, Master Uthar!" she exclaimed. "I am ready!"

"Brash and fiery, as expected," Uthar chuckled. "Turn that passion to your advantage, child. What of you, Mekel? Are you ready?"

"I am Master," the brutal young man replied. "More than ready."

"I sense much anger within you, young one," Master Uthar told him. "That is good. That will provide you power. And Shaardan…what of you?"

"I am always ready!" Shaardan declared.

But Uthar seemed dissatisfied with Shaardan for some reason. "I see," he said, arms crossed. "You had best gather your wits for the trial ahead, boy, or you will not last." He looked at the next young man in line, a slender, quiet looking young man. He opened his mouth, then looked past the young man. Aithne assumed the young man must be Kel Algwinn. Seemed Uthar didn't think Kel was Sith material any more than Aithne's friends Thaddeus and Leni had. He moved on to Aithne. "And you, young human? Does this interest you? Are you ready to learn more of what I speak?"

Aithne straightened, looking Master Uthar straight in the eye. "The name's Addison Bettler, Master Uthar," she declared proudly. "I'm ready."

Uthar looked a bit skeptical. "Are you?" he asked quietly. "I can see into your heart, Addison Bettler, and I see the dark kernel that is there. If it is ready to sprout remains to be seen." He turned to the others, leaving Aithne troubled. Jolee moved up a fraction of an inch, but Aithne felt his presence, and was comforted.

"Now then," said Master Uthar. "All of you Sith recruits have shown a degree of facility with the Force. You all have the potential to become true Sith. Only one of you, however, will succeed. The one who succeeds will be admitted to the Academy as a full Sith. All others must wait until next year and try again...if you survive. My pupil, Yuthura, shall be your teacher and master while you attempt to prove yourselves. Heed her words."

Yuthura stepped forward. "As Master Uthar said," she spoke up clearly. "None of you are a true Sith yet. For that to occur, one of you must do enough of worth…gain enough prestige…to be selected. What is an act of worth? You must learn that for yourselves. Remember that you are competitors here. Fight for your destiny, or go home."

Aithne observed her competitors. Their reactions would tell her how she was to approach them, and how she could eventually beat them. Kel looked down. Mekel and Lashowe looked frankly delighted. Shaardan looked serious.

"If you wish to gain a lead over your competitors," Master Uthar said, "the first of you to learn the Code of the Sith and tell me of it will be rewarded. The rest is for you to discover. Welcome to the Dark Side, my children…your one chance at true greatness lies here."

Aithne and her 'slaves' were escorted to a student's room. A single bed and a locker were the only things contained in the small, barren space. Aithne pulled out her com link.

"Addison to the _Ebon Hawk,_" she said, lest anyone be listening. "Come in, _Ebon Hawk_."

Canderous picked up the link. "This is Canderous." It had been prearranged that all communication between Aithne and the _Hawk _would be through Canderous only, the sole other crew member she had been seen with around Dreshdae.

"Canderous, we're in. I don't know what the plan is exactly. I'll ask around and see if I can find my bearings. It may take a while. The competition looks tough."

She used neutral language, but she and the others had worked out beforehand this message. She was telling the _Hawk_ that she was going to look around for the Star Map, and that even if she was gone for several days, they were not to worry.

"Got it," Canderous said. "I'll tell the others. Over and out."

Carth was already pulling out the blanket he'd packed up that morning and making up a pallet on the floor. Jolee was doing the same.

Aithne blushed. "Ok, but tomorrow one of you gets the bed."

"Oh, I'd better," said Jolee, grinning.

Aithne woke late enough the next morning, and, after sending Jolee and Carth out into the hall, dressed in the Sith uniform she'd been provided with. She hated the look and feel of the thing. So she left her hair mostly down in a concentrated effort to appear less like a Sith soldier.

She walked out to join the others. Carth inadvertently curled his lip when he caught sight of her. "Chill, flyboy," Aithne told him under her breath. "It's just the uniform."

"Keep it that way," he murmured back to her. Aithne stepped back, feeling like she'd been slapped. But then she nodded. The three of them set off towards the mess someone had pointed out the day before, but the door to the room immediately next to Aithne's swung open, and Yuthura Ban stepped out.

"Ah, if it isn't my favorite prospect for the year," she greeted Aithne.

"You were waiting for me," Aithne said.

"I was. I engineered for you to be placed in the room next to mine, as well."

"Why?" Aithne demanded.

"By my estimation, you are far more likely to achieve the prestige necessary to become a Sith than any of the others," Yuthura confided. "Mekel's a brute. Shaardan's an idiot. Lashowe's too trusting, and Kel too timid. You, you seem both bold and intelligent. I have an opportunity for you. Of the once-in-a-lifetime variety, if you want to hear it."

Aithne was intrigued. "Alright. Shoot."

Yuthura revealed that, in the grand Sith tradition, she was ready to take down her master. She'd been plotting for months, and had decided that one of the student trials would be the best place for a confrontation, as it was one of the only times Master Uthar was even close to alone. At Aithne's trial, for Yuthura was confident that Aithne would be the one selected for trial, Uthar, Yuthura, and Aithne would go alone to the tomb of Naga Sadow.

"Why the tomb of Naga Sadow?" Aithne asked.

"Oh, five years back Revan discovered some Star Map or other there," Yuthura said off-handedly. "It's tradition. The only time anyone goes to that tomb is at the trials."

"You don't say?" Jolee said. "Well the master loves tombs, don't you Master?"

Yuthura looked askance at Jolee. Aithne glared, sending him a silent message to remember his role. "Anyway, the important thing is that you and I will be alone with him," Yuthura went on. She needed an ally to take down Uthar. She'd chosen Aithne. The plan was for her to help Aithne gain the prestige needed to win the competition. At the trial, Aithne would help Yuthura strike down Uthar, and then take her place as Yuthura's own apprentice.

"At least, until I strike you down. In that grand, noble Sith tradition," Aithne only half-joked.

Yuthura's smile was darkly amused, but it had teeth in it. "Well, yes. If you can."

Aithne thought for a moment. She needed an in to that tomb, and Uthar probably deserved to die. She might go ahead and kill Yuthura, too, she reasoned, and do the galaxy a favor.

Finally, she nodded. "I'll do it," she said, shaking the woman's slender hand. Yuthura smiled.

"Good. I'm so glad you see it my way. Now, is there anything I can do for you?"

"There is the matter of how to get prestige," Aithne reminded her.

"The first and easiest way would be to recite the Code of the Sith for Uthar. Would you like to hear it?"

Aithne nodded an affirmative. Yuthura began.

"Peace is a lie; there is only passion."

_That's as false as saying there is no emotion, _thought Aithne angrily. _What are they teaching these kids?_

"Through passion, I gain strength,"

Surprised, Aithne realized that she didn't actually dispute that. Love, anger, hatred, compassion, gratitude, they all gave the person in possession of them a strength of character to do things that, unarmed with these passions, they would be incapable of.

"Through strength, I gain power,"

Yes, but the corollary was that through passion, one gained power, and Aithne _did_ dispute that. Just as often as passion helped to accomplish things, it rendered the passionate incapable of performance. Passion brought powerlessness as often as it brought power. Besides, there were many, many other ways of gaining power than through strength alone.

"Through power, I gain victory,"

_Sometimes victory is sheer dumb luck, though._

"Through victory, my chains are broken,"

If the victory sought was the release of the chains, Aithne imagined so. But if by simply winning, the Sith imagined all their problems would disappear, they were just plain wrong. Victory and power brought a whole host of new problems, from all Aithne had observed, without actually doing anything to add to the happiness of the victor.

"The Force shall free me." Yuthura finished solemnly, bowing her head. Aithne asked her a few questions, of course, without buying it an iota more than the Jedi Code, and maybe even less.

Yuthura went on to tell Aithne of a few renegade students Uthar had ordered executed that she could track down and murder for him for prestige points. She mentioned a rogue assassin droid needed to be destroyed. Finally, she said that Aithne could always pose to help a fellow student and betray them at the last minute to eliminate the competition and nab their prestige. If Aithne were to do this, Yuthura believed the ideal victim would be Lashowe.

Throughout the speech, Aithne grew more and more curious about the Twi'lek. What made a person so practically evil? "Tell me about yourself," she said as Yuthura concluded her advice.

"Me?" Yuthura sounded surprised, and almost shy. "Well, I'm originally from Sleheyron, if you must know."

Aithne grimaced. A pit of a world, that. Worse than Taris, and controlled by the Hutts. She remembered going there once. The memory was not fond. She asked for details. Yuthura explained that she'd been a slave to a crime lord. "The Hutts control everything on Sleheyron, and a slave is nothing to them. I was determined not to be nothing." Her face contorted in remembered anger. She told how she'd been left alone with the Hutt one night. She told how she had stabbed him to death with a knife she'd stolen, and jumped on a ship that ran out of fuel in the middle of nowhere. And then she stopped.

There was much that Aithne could understand about Yuthura now. Strong, hurt, and resourceful, it was no surprise that the angry slave girl had turned into the cruel Sith master before her. But Aithne had the feeling that Yuthura had not always been this way. So she continued to prod the woman.

"How did you become a Sith?"

"I…" Yuthura trailed off. "I would prefer not to discuss that." Her face was astonishingly vulnerable. Aithne suddenly felt she could like this woman, and like her well, Sith or no. And it became incredibly important to hear what she had to say.

"I'd really like to know," she said softly.

Yuthura stiffened. "Why?" she demanded, suspicious. "There is no point. Have I asked you about your past?"

"You can," Aithne replied. "I'll answer," _And I'll tell the truth, too, at least up until a couple of months ago, _she thought privately. "Maybe I'm a nosy busybody, but I just thought we could become friends."

Yuthura's face softened. For a moment she looked like she might actually cry. "You…you have very odd notions for someone hoping to become a Sith," she said. "Let's see, after escaping from Sleheyron I was found by the Jedi. They took me in and trained me, even though I was a bit older than most Padawans."

Aithne checked. "You were a Jedi?"

Yuthura shook her head. "Not really, no." She explained. "I never progressed beyond Padawan. I had discipline, but no peace…and after my treatment at the hands of the Hutts there was little room in me for the ways of the Jedi."

"You…you sound very much like…someone I used to know," Jolee said softly, an odd emotion in his voice Aithne had never heard before.

Yuthura laughed a little, embarrassed. Luckily, she was too emotional to take note of Jolee's second interjection. Aithne caught it, though, and resolved to speak with him later. "Yes, well…I imagine I am not unique. Things could have very easily been very different for me. I wanted to use the Force to free the other slaves I knew, to fight for what I knew was right. The Jedi restrained me until I couldn't stand it anymore. They claim the Dark Side is evil, but that isn't so. Sometimes anger and hatred are deserved and right. Sometimes things change because of it."

Aithne regarded the Twi'lek woman, realizing abruptly that she was in trouble. She wouldn't be able to kill Yuthura. The Sith master wasn't evil. Or she hadn't been. Even now, she was simply hurt and misguided. But…but how could Aithne help Yuthura without tipping her off that she wasn't at the Sith Academy to learn the Dark Side?

"I agree with you," Aithne said carefully. "But have things changed for you?"

Yuthura thought. "No," she admitted, "Not yet. But my anger has not diminished, nor my desire to see change. The more time I spend with the Sith the more I am certain that one day I will be able to fight as I must. I know this may sound strange, but only my compassion stands in my way, now. Once that is gone let the slavers beware!"

Aithne bit her lip. "Yuthura," she said uneasily. "If you lose your compassion, do you think you'll still care about those slaves?"

Yuthura looked troubled. "I…yes, of course!" She looked away. "I mean losing my compassion as in…holding back." But she didn't sound too terribly convinced. "Enough of that," she said at last. "I've talked about myself too much, surely you are tired of it."

"I'm not, but if you wish to discuss it again sometime, we can do that. I'll let you alone, for now. Goodbye, Yuthura."

Yuthura shook Aithne's hand warmly. "Come back soon, Addison, my friend."

Aithne and the others finally made it to the mess. Aithne ate her midday meal in silence, thinking hard. At the end of the meal, she rose, and led the way to the center of the Academy, where Master Uthar was meditating.

She tapped him on the shoulder. He rose immediately, drawing his lightsaber in a single movement and whirling on her. Aithne didn't flinch. "Um, Uthar? Yeah, Yuthura wants me to help her kill you at the final trial."

Master Uthar deactivated his lightsaber. He recovered remarkably quickly. "Addison Bettler. Greetings. I see. It is good that you have come to me with this information," he said, brow lined with thought. "It is a bit…ironic…that Yuthura has begun her plotting. I have been aware of her growing ambitions for some time, and had in fact already decided to remove her. Normally, the one who gains the most prestige would engage in a final trial...two of the students would fight. This time it will be Yuthura who battles, though she does not know it. Perhaps it will be you who combats her?" He looked hard at Aithne."Yes…perhaps so. This is what you can do. Give this pad to Adrenas…he will put some poison in her bath. This will weaken Yuthura for that final test, making her an easy target." He smirked. "Rather generous of me, don't you think?"

Aithne smirked. "Extremely," she said drily.

"Hm. This should be interesting," Jolee said under his breath.

"For coming to me with this information and betraying your foolish trainer, I feel you are worthy of prestige, young Addison," Uthar announced. "Go now…you have not yet impressed me enough to declare you the victor."

"Alright, but don't you want to hear the Code of the Sith?" Aithne asked casually.

"You know the Code?" Uthar asked, skeptical.

"Sure," Aithne replied, crossing her arms, every inch the cocky scoundrel. She told it to him. Uthar asked her some ridiculously easy question about what it really meant, granted her a little more prestige, and dismissed her.

As Aithne walked away, Carth spoke to her in a low voice. "What's going on? I got the feeling you liked Yuthura."

"I do," Aithne replied. "I like her so much I don't want her to waste her life fighting for freedom and losing her soul as a Sith. I want to show her what she is, what's she's doing, and remind her what she was."

"You want to turn her," Jolee said.

"More or less. Does she have to go back to the Order and be a poster child for the Jedi? No. Would I like her to turn her life around, start respecting life again, and remember her own ideals? Yes."

Carth smiled. "Ok, just don't get in too deep," he warned.

"I'll be careful, Mom," Aithne joked. They had lunch in the mess. Aithne spent the rest of the afternoon talking to her competitors. Mekel tried to provoke her into a fight. Lashowe was hostile, but not aggressive. Shaardan was friendly enough, but not communicative. Kel was extremely friendly, but seemed troubled. After exchanging pleasantries, Aithne asked him about it.

"Is something wrong?"

"Not really, no," he replied, though he looked away.

"C'mon, you can tell me," Aithne said kindly.

"My master says that I am too trusting," Kel said, politely refusing to share. "And you're going to be a Sith."

"Aren't you?" Aithne asked, crossing her arms. _Aha! _she thought.

"That's not what I meant!" Kel said hastily.

"What did you mean, then?"Aithne asked bluntly.

"Never mind," urged Kel, "I can't trust you. Can I?"

Aithne quirked an eyebrow. "That's the nature of trust, isn't it? You have to decide. You can tell me what's bothering you, and I might use it against you, or tell someone else who would. But I also might use my power of choice to decide to help you out, just to shake things up around here. Of course, you can always keep your secret and let it eat you up inside."

Kel stared at her. "What kind of Sith are you?" he asked. Aithne just looked at him, waiting.

"Fine," he said. "Sometimes I don't feel like I belong here. Some of the things the Sith say, some of the things they do, some of it just doesn't feel right."

"You're pretty strong in the Force," Aithne said, "but your aura's pretty light. Ever killed anyone?"

Kel shook his head mutely.

"How about theft? Have you ever stolen anything?"

Another head shake.

"Do you make a habit of lying or cheating?"

"Hardly ever. It just seems…wrong."

_Why in the galaxy is he here then? _Aithne wondered. The classic move would be to challenge him to a duel to prove himself now, but she didn't. Instead, she said, "Maybe you aren't a Sith, Kel." She kept her voice gentle. She winked. "Maybe that's a good thing."

Kel looked puzzled. "But if I left here, where would I go? What would I do?"

Aithne considered. The kid seemed ready enough to learn, easily led, and decent. She sighed."Have you thought about the Jedi?" she asked. He didn't have it in him to go it alone gray-sided.

"I've never thought about it," Kel said slowly. "I grew up here on Korriban, see. Maybe I should think about it, though." He smiled. "Thanks, Addison," he said. "Maybe it is time I left here."

"Good luck," Aithne said. She turned to go, smiling.

Walking out, she whispered to Carth and Jolee. "There! You see? I did a good deed _and_ eliminated some competition!"

"Oh, very good, lass," Jolee said sarcastically. Carth just smiled, a little absently. He was thinking of Dustil again, Aithne knew. Aithne rounded the corner to where she thought her room was, and swung the door at the end of the hall open.

A tall young man blinked back at her quizzically. Aithne turned bright red and stifled a gasp. He was the spitting image of Carth. The strong jaw, arching brow, slightly long and narrow nose, and broad shoulders all clearly depicted Carth as he must have looked at sixteen. He wore a gray Sith uniform. An elegant Sith saber lay on the nearby bunk. His eyes were a bit darker than Carth's, and the cheekbones were a bit more defined, but this could only be Dustil Onasi.

He smiled at Aithne amiably. "You take a wrong turn somewhere?" he asked, in a warm baritone voice that again called Carth to mind, though it was not so musical as his father's.

Carth gaped. "Dustil?" he said, astounded. "Is that you?"

Dustil's face contorted. An ugly sneer twisted his features. "Oh, lovely. It's Father. Figures that you'd show up after all this time. How did you manage to get inside the Academy?"

Aithne smiled at him. "They were kind enough to let us in the front doors," she said flippantly, trying to relieve the tension that had suddenly sprung up in the young man's face.

He smirked. "Cute. I wonder how interested Master Uthar would be to know just who he has in his web," he told his father. "Last I heard there was a death order out for you from Malak himself." He looked appraisingly at Aithne. "You and Bastila Shan and this other woman. This isn't Bastila. What, is it Aithne Morrigan? That's her name, isn't it? Aithne Morrigan? Tall, brown eyes, looks like she can handle herself. I think it is. Unless you've switched sides, Father? But I doubt that. Just why are you here, Father?" he spat acidly. "Not for me, I hope. Couldn't you have gotten yourself blown up on some ship and spared us this reunion?"

Carth took a step back. "Dustil…what? What are you talking about? I…I thought you were dead!"

Dustil smiled bitterly. "Too bad you didn't still think that," he said. "Or did you really think I would be happy to see you? Look everyone!" he called out mockingly, but not, Aithne noticed, loud enough for anyone to hear. "It's Father, come to rescue me at long last! Sure, he may have left Mother and I to die on Telos, but that doesn't matter!"

Carth shook his head, dazed. "No, I didn't abandon you," he protested. "The Task Force just arrived too late. Telos was in ruins, and your mother…I held her while…" he trailed off, seeing Dustil's stony face. "But I looked for you. I swear I looked for you everywhere…"

Dustil cut him off. "Oh, save it. You abandoned us long before. We were alone all through the wars, and even once you came back you still didn't stay!" His voice grew louder throughout this speech.

"I didn't have a choice!" Carth cried. "I was needed…"

"Yeah? Well you were needed at home, too," Dustil retorted. "You were needed when the bombing started, and I got captured!"

He fairly roiled with the Force, and Aithne knew they had taken him for it. Carth himself was borderline Force Sensitive; Aithne had noticed it before. Carth's wife really must have been amazing, if Dustil had turned out this strong. But strength in the Force had not helped the twelve year old boy alone when he watched his friends die and couldn't get to his mother, and had known his father wasn't there to save him.

He smiled bitterly. "You know what?" he said. "It doesn't matter. Not anymore. I have a new family now, a family that cares about me. I don't need you!"

Carth reacted like he'd been slapped. "The Sith? You can't mean that! No, the Sith killed your mother! The Sith destroyed Telos!"

Dustil laughed. "So? You're the soldier, Father. How many mothers have you killed?"

Carth shook his head violently. "No, you've been brainwashed!" he declared. "the son I knew would never…"

"You _never_ knew me!" Dustil cried. "You weren't even _there_ to know me, so don't presume to tell me what I would or wouldn't do!"

Carth's jaw set. "I don't know what's been done to you," he said, exactly in the manner he shouldn't have. "But you're coming with me out of here. Now."

Dustil's lightsaber flew to his hand, though he didn't activate it. "Touch me, old man, and I'll kill you," he said in a low voice. "Get out! Get out of here before I tell the Sith that you're here!"

Aithne stepped forward before someone got hurt, keeping her hands far, far away from her vibrosword. "Shut up, Carth," she hissed at him, stepping carefully between Carth and Dustil. "Dustil," she said. "Calm down. Carth is only trying to protect you."

Dustil calmed slightly now that he was looking at Aithne instead of his father. "I don't need his protection," he declared. "Not anymore. The Sith give me everything I need."

Carth stepped out from behind Aithne, imploring. "You can't mean that," he said. "The Sith are…they're evil. They're the Dark Side. They…they took me away from you and your mother. They're…they're what took you from me!"

"No," Dustil argued. "They're not evil. They're not! The Dark Side is superior, and you…you were at war long before they came along!"

At least Dustil was arguing, not threatening to kill people, Aithne thought. Still, better she say something stupid to keep Dustil guessing. "Let's see," she said in a contemplative tone. "That makes it Dustil, oh, four or so good points, Carth, one." Carth looked at her sideways, but Jolee began to smile.

"The Sith war to conquer," Carth said, "to rule the helpless. I went to war for _you_, Dustil. For your freedom, your future."

"Oh, _well done_, Carth," Aithne praised him. "I'll give you _two_ points for that one. That's four-three. To Dustil."

Dustil jabbed his thumb at Aithne, forgetting his anger in his annoyance for a moment. "Who _is_ this woman?"

"It doesn't matter," Carth said. "Ignore her. She's crazy, anyway."

"I resent that!" Aithne said, but grinned. This was working out well.

"I still don't believe you," Dustil informed Carth.

"If I failed you son," Carth replied passionately, "then it's _my_ failure. Please don't add to it by becoming part of something evil."

Something in Dustil's eyes softened, as if a gate had opened. "Tie game," Aithne whispered. "Your move, Dustil."

Dustil thought for a moment, then threw his lightsaber back on the bed, placing his hands on his hips. "Prove it," he said finally. "Prove that the Sith are so evil and…and I'll think about it."

Aithne dropped the lunatic act now that it didn't look like either of the Onasi men planned to kill the other. "How can we prove something like that?" she asked.

"I'll stay right here," Dustil promised. "I won't tell anyone you're here, or who you really are. For now. You find some _proof_ and you bring it to me. If I hear you asking questions about me or doing a single thing to jeopardize my position in the Sith, I swear, I'll tell everyone what you're up to."

Aithne crossed her arms. "And how will you do that?" she said. "You don't actually _know_ anything other than that we're here."

Dustil ignored her, staring at Carth. "You got that, Father?" he asked. "You prove what you're saying is true. I'm not going anywhere, otherwise." _This is your chance not to mess up, _his eyes said. _Prove to me I can trust you again._

Carth got the message. "I…I got it, Dustil," he said. "I'll be back. I swear it."

The three companions left Dustil's room. Aithne dragged Carth straight back to her own room. She motioned to Jolee. "Go. Eat a snack or something. Try to actually remember you're a _slave_ while you're at it, not an annoying reclusive semi-Jedi, okay? Yuthura almost noticed something today. Lashowe did."

Jolee nodded, and left faster than Aithne had seen him walk in a while. Aithne rounded on Carth.

She crossed her arms. "You know you're an idiot, right? Back there, if it hadn't been for me, you would've probably been killed."

Carth looked at Aithne, incredulous. "Me? It was…it was Dustil! I don't know what's gotten into him!"

Aithne snorted. "Don't give me that. Think, flyboy. I've known you long enough to know that you possess a brain, and a damn good one. Use it. The boy barely knew you! You may have gone off to fight for him and his mother, but you were never a presence in his life." She stared him down until she saw his face collapse and knew he was listening. "Still," she said in a softened tone, "I bet you were a hero to that kid, Carth. Until the day he was walking to school and the bombing started. He tried to run. He tried to get back to his mother. But the fighters were flying overhead. Some Sith noticed the boy has an aura like a nebula. That Sith swooped down and scooped up Dustil, and while he was taken away from his dying world, all Dustil could think of was that _his father wasn't there to save him_."

"It wasn't my fault!" Carth protested, but his head was in his hands. Anguish lined his brow.

"I know that," Aithne said, placing a hand on his shoulder gently. "And once he thinks about it, Dustil will know that. But you can't just come waltzing in here and expect the kid to know right away. He's been four years among the Sith. You were wrong to start demanding him to leave without giving a single thought to what he's been through. We're going to have to deal with that before there'll even be a chance for you two."

Carth sat on the bed. His head was still in his hands. "You're right," he said finally, in a voice that sounded like it came from far away. "What are we going to do?"

Aithne sighed. She sat down beside him. "You're still his father, even if you've messed up," she said quietly. "And he's still your son." She laughed. "He looks _just like_ you, Carth."

Carth smiled. "He does, doesn't he?"

"He really didn't want to kill you, you know," Aithne said. "He kept going back and forth as to what to do with you. And from what I've heard, he's as decent as the Sith come, for all he has a temper. So, we'll find his proof. He seems fair-minded enough."

"He is," Carth said. "I know that much."

"Then he'll listen."

"How are we going to do it?" Carth asked. He looked up, and his eyes were hopeful.

Aithne's jaw set. She'd been running that question through her mind since they'd talked to Dustil. She had an answer, but she didn't like it, and she was sure Carth wouldn't.

"Carth, you're going to have to bear with me, however this turns out," she warned. Carth caught her tone, and tensed.

"That doesn't sound good. It's crazy, isn't it, what you're thinking of? Or at least insanely difficult."

"Quite possibly both," Aithne admitted. "I was going to play it safe, but if we're going to find the kind of proof we need to show Dustil that the Sith are evil, we have to go places where the Sith are going to be at their worst." She sighed. "I'm going to get right in the middle of a Sith power struggle, Carth. On both sides there's going to be a very powerful Sith master knowing I'm treacherous, expecting me to be treacherous. And…" She paused. "And I'm going to live up to their expectations. I'm going to be as Sithy as possible so we can win that pass to Naga Sadow. And somewhere along the way, someone will give us what we need to prove to Dustil that the Sith are evil."

"That's not much of a plan," Carth said, studying her face.

Aithne laughed bitterly. "Well, if all else fails, you can hold me up as an example to Dustil," she quipped. It wasn't even a joke.

Carth shifted. But it was his son, so all he said was, "Are you sure?"

Aithne nodded. "I'm going to do this for you," she said firmly. "For you and for him."

A knock came at the door. Aithne opened it to reveal Jolee. "Are you finished yelling at him?"

"She's finished," Carth reported.

"How was it?" Jolee asked the younger man.

"Probably exactly what I needed to hear," Carth admitted ruefully.

Aithne clapped him on the back. "C'mon, you two. We have plotting to do before supper."

She led the two of them a few feet, and knocked on Yuthura's door.

"What do you prospects want now?" came an annoyed voice, and then Yuthura opened the door. She smiled. "Oh, it's you, Addison. Come in."

"Yuthura, something's happened," Aithne said as soon as she entered the Twi'lek's minimalist room. "Uthar knows about your plan. He plans to have me fight you at the final test."

"He knows, does he?" Yuthura said, crossing her arms. "You told him, didn't you?"

Aithne knew she was on dangerous ground. She faced Yuthura brazenly. "Of course I did. I could get the prestige out of it, and you aren't exactly subtle. Engineering it so that I would have quarters next to yours, honestly. Uthar knew you'd been planning something. He'd planned on killing you soon. Now, thanks to me, you know when and how. You're welcome."

Yuthura raised a painted brow. "You aren't going to kill me," she said, in a half statement, half question.

Aithne grinned dangerously. "I might. I might not. I like you, but it might help me more in the long run to side with Uthar."

Yuthura smiled slowly. "I think…I think I like you, too. But you should know you don't stand a chance with Uthar. I thought I could use you, like a pawn…I'm starting to rethink that. Uthar has already thought of it. You're too dangerous for him to keep around. I think…I think I'd enjoy it. Here,"

She dug around in her trunk and brought out two items. "Here is the passkey to Uthar's room," she said, "And here is a device. You will place this under Uthar's bed. It will poison him, weaken him before the fight, now that he expects our move. Go. It's our only shot."

Aithne grinned, taking the items and placing them in her pack. She bowed theatrically. "I thank you, Master Yuthura. You are graciousness itself."

Yuthura laughed, and her eyes contained both a new respect and a new wariness of this Addison Bettler, the wild card in her deep game with her master.

"_That_ was your plan?" Carth demanded in a whisper as they left. "Do you know how likely it is that she'll assassinate you, now?"

"Really good odds, I think," Aithne replied calmly.

"Then why…"

"She won't kill me until after she gets rid of Uthar," Aithne interrupted. "She'll be ready for me to turn on her, but hoping that I won't. Here." She handed Carth the passkey to Uthar's room. "What is that?"

"It's the passkey to Uthar's…oh." Carth said.

"Exactly. When I went to Yuthura just now, she was practically forced into giving me another incentive to fight with her. I didn't know what it would be, but I had hopes I could use the information."

"She gave you a way to poison him," Jolee said.

"And had to give you access to his rooms. And there might be something there we can use as proof for Dustil!" Carth finished. He nodded, but looked worried, all the same. "Beautiful-"

"Don't worry about it," Aithne told him. "We probably will find something in Uthar's rooms. He's the principal of evil around here."

Jolee laughed. "Oh, well played, lass!" he congratulated her.

"Thank you, " Aithne said. She led the group down a dark, scarcely frequented passage.

"Uh, Aithne?" Carth asked. "Where are we going?"

"Master Uthar's room," she said. "Shh. I'm sensing."

Her eyes half closed, she led them around one turn and into an alcove. Seeing a door, Aithne smiled. "Here we are. The most evil feeling place in the Academy."

She swiped the card Yuthura had given her. The doors opened with a hiss. Aithne entered, followed cautiously by her companions. The first thing she did was to remove the device Yuthura had given her. She pushed a small green button on its underside. The thing grew small metal legs. Aithne placed it on the floor beside Uthar's bed, and it scuttled away quietly.

"That's the type that will continue to weaken him over days," she said quietly, with some satisfaction, speaking of the device. "It ought to help when I have to fight him. It ought to help immensely."

"Still, isn't it a bit, I don't know, dirty?" asked Carth in an undertone. No one wanted to get caught here.

"Maybe," Aithne shrugged. "But when on Korriban…"

Carth looked away, troubled. But Aithne knelt immediately down to one of the two lockers in the room, slicing it silently with expert speed.

"You've had a lot of practice," Jolee noted.

Aithne grinned. "Mission taught me some tricks," she said. "And I wasn't any bungler before." Jolee nodded.

Aithne ran over the contents of the trunk with eyes and a feather light touch.

"Nothing here," she reported. "Check the other one," she told Carth. Gently, she closed the locker, being careful to leave everything exactly as she found it. This was no place to go thieving. Whereas Uthar might appreciate the ingenuity had it been directed towards any of her competitors, Aithne had an uncomfortable feeling that if Uthar noticed it had been his things she had been stealing and his room she had been poisoning that she would be very dead very quickly.

Carth, surprisingly enough, had cracked the locker when she had finished with her unpleasant musings. She gave him a curious glance, and was returned a crooked smile.

"What? You think you're the only one who can learn things from Mission?"

He examined the contents of the trunk. His face grew grave, and he picked up a datapad, scanning its contents. Suddenly his eyes flashed with triumph. A split second later they grew unexpectedly sad.

"What?" Aithne asked.

"We've got Dustil's proof. He had a friend, a girl named Selene. Apparently the two of them were very close. She, however, wasn't found to have as much 'talent'. Uthar decided she was hindering Dustil's progress. He took the girl out and had her killed. He told Dustil it had been an accident."

Aithne nodded, understanding. "That's certainly evil, and it ought to convince Dustil. But still, it's tough luck for the kid."

"Tough love for the kid," Carth said, jaw tight. "He needs to hear this."

"Any ideas on how to get the datapad out of here?" Jolee asked, taking the datapad from Carth. "Look at this design. Very nice. Very _unique_."

Aithne caught his drift. They could download the information onto another datapad and show it to Dustil, leaving the original here, but then Dustil might think that they made it all up. They couldn't download the information onto another datapad and then leave the copy. Master Uthar would catch the replacement at once, and might even track it to Dustil.

Carth's face fell as he thought about it. Aithne's eyes flashed, and she glared at Jolee. She snatched the datapad from him and stuffed it into her pack.

"We'll risk it," she snapped recklessly. Anything to bring the hope back to Carth's eyes. She avoided the glances of the pilot and Jolee as she swept out of the room. She didn't want Carth's thanks, and she didn't want to deal with the old man's questions.

"We'll give the datapad to Dustil tomorrow afternoon," she told Carth in an undertone.

He nodded. It was getting late, and he could see Sith making their way back to the barracks. Tomorrow afternoon they would all be out training or seeking prestige, and the three of them could talk to Dustil without much danger of being seen or overheard.

Aithne collapsed on the floor as Jolee took the bed. She stared at the ceiling, wondering what tomorrow would bring. Dustil's fate would be decided, for certain, but that did not get her any closer to beating out the other prospective Sith. That did not get her any closer to the Star Map. She wondered what she would have to do, what she would have to become. And she trembled in the dark, as she remembered Taris and knew that she'd do it.


	23. Where the Lines Blur

**Disclaimer: Knights of the Old Republic did not belong to me last month or this morning. It still doesn't now, more's the pity.**

* * *

><p>CARTH POV<p>

Carth stood surreptitiously by the door of the training room, listening for anything about prestige he could hear. It was a long, low room, full of groups of students learning and teachers teaching of the Dark Side. Carth heard much about mercy being a weakness and superior power being the only acceptable means of gaining victory. Every now and then a student would jump up and attack a teacher, trying to prove their superiority, trying to climb the ranks. Of course, the teacher would slam the poor student down quickly enough, but would not go for the kill. Instead, the teacher would laugh, and instruct the student to let his humiliation fuel his hate; that his hate would be his ally.

The Sith seemed largely self-destructive to Carth. He honestly was finding it hard to process how they'd lasted in the galaxy so long without destroying themselves. He didn't understand how Dustil couldn't see the evil and stupidity so obviously there.

Carth's attention wandered. How would Dustil respond to the datapad Aithne carried? If Carth remembered one thing about his son, it was how he had hated deception. Carth had never had any trouble getting his son not to lie. His trouble had been keeping Dustil out of fist fights with liars.

They would confront Dustil with the datapad later this afternoon, when most of the Sith would be out seeking prestige. But for now, Aithne had staked him and Jolee out around the Academy listening for any information they could pick up. Meanwhile, she had said, she'd be doing her own looking about. Because there were three of them, they could be that much more effective. Carth frowned. He had had a passing thought that maybe Aithne had wanted to get them out of the way, but her reasoning did make sense. No, he thought, she was going all out for him and for Dustil. Perhaps he should stop being so suspicious.

Just then a young woman caught his attention. "How may I achieve prestige, Master?" she was asking.

"Must you prospectives be so irritating?" asked a weary Sith woman. "Ok. Listen up. I'm only going to say this once. Uthar's old master, the previous head of the Academy? He's not dead. He's hiding out in the tombs, leading the life of a hermit. He's made life difficult for students that pass that way, and the rumor is he's working on some sort of discovery. If you could kill him, this Jorak Uln, and bring back whatever it is he is working on, I think Master Uthar would reward you handsomely. Ok, now back to your lightsaber stroke…"

Carth made a note to tell Aithne about Jorak Uln. Yuthura hadn't mentioned him. Looking around, Carth's eyebrows shot up. He could tell Aithne now. She was speaking to a short man, a Sith teacher, in a low tone. From where Carth stood, he couldn't tell exactly what she was saying, but he saw her hand the man a datapad. The man read it, and his expression darkened. He bowed to Aithne, and left immediately.

Aithne didn't see Carth standing in the shadow of the doorway. She moved quickly towards the Academy exit, the one towards the tombs. Carth considered making himself known and going with her, but he remembered at the last minute that he was a slave, and there were many Sith around. Slaves did not approach their masters unless summoned. Anyone who saw him join Aithne just as if he had free and equal footing with her would almost certainly be inquisitive.

He turned away, and wondered just what she was doing alone on Korriban pretending to be a Sith. He recalled her tight expression that morning. He remembered her rage two days ago at the Sith murderer he'd killed for the mercy of what she was doing to him, and Carth suddenly felt slightly sick.

* * *

><p>MISSION POV<p>

It was around eleven in the morning, Dreshdae time. Mission rolled her shoulders. Seriously, she supposed people like Carth and Aithne and Bastila and Canderous were used to the constant time change, but it was giving her serious lag.

She and Zaalbar were hanging out in the cantina, trying to find someone to play Pazaak with that they hadn't cleaned out already.

Two big, brutal looking apprentices strode in, and Mission faded into the background without a sound. The Sith wouldn't pick on Zaalbar, but they were quite fond of torturing Twi'lek girls for their own amusement. She'd seen it herself. And whereas Zaalbar could, and would, protect her from the ordinary run-of-the-mill thug, she wasn't sure even the two of them together could handle two Force-wielders, and Juhani was ordering up at the counter.

"What do you think of the prospectives?" one of the Sith asked his buddy.

"It's the best competition I've seen in a while," replied the other. "Kel Algwinn left yesterday. Shaardan was killed by Master Uthar just this morning for, get this, bringing in an ancient sword and claiming it belonged to Ajunta Pall."

"It didn't?" replied the first.

"No. Master Uthar figured Shaardan lifted it off one of the other students without making sure it was genuine."

"Has anyone shown up with the real one?"

"Yeah, just before we left I saw that new one, Addison Bettler, giving Master Uthar the sword."

Mission was suddenly very interested. She perked up her ears and sat forward a bit in her chair. What was Aithne up to, anyway?

The two Sith were laughing. "Hah!" said one, "I bet that Addison got a couple of swords in Ajunta Pall's tomb, and when Shaardan tried to take the sword, she just handed him one of the others!"

"She's a slick one, right enough," agreed his friend. "Lashowe told me last night that she was the last person seen talking to Kel before he left."

"Where is Lashowe, anyway?"

"I was walking past her room this morning. She was talking to someone about that holocron she's been looking for. Said she could use some help. The other one said that together they'd be unstoppable."

The Sith speaking smiled, a little sadly, a little unpleasantly. His friend nodded, understanding.

"Either she's an idiot without a holocron then, or she's dead come evening."

"Who do you think her 'ally' was?"

"Well if it was Shaardan, she might dodge the bolt. But personally, he was a little too dim for that. Could be Mekel. He likes that sort of thing."

"I bet it was Addison, though. Mekel's kind of a loner, you know? Addison- I don't know her, but she seems to operate through trickery, doesn't she?"

"Mmm," agreed the other.

Mission shuddered. She didn't like this. Aithne, tricking people to death, just to impress some Sith Master? It wasn't right. It didn't sound like her. But, what if they were right? Mission knew Aithne was certainly capable of it. And Juhani and Bastila had both said how dark the planet was. Juhani strode up with the drinks. Mission downed it in one, feeling the juice slide down her throat. It tasted sour. "Let's go," she said quietly.

* * *

><p>JOLEE POV<p>

Jolee was walking out of the dueling room at about noon. He needed to use the necessary. Across the hall, though, he stopped. From the interrogation room he'd heard a shout. He heard the hiss of ignited lightsabers. Jolee reached out with his senses.

The spirit of a Mandalorian, once proud, now broken with torture, was in the very act of leaving his crumpled body and joining with the Force. A twisted, dark aura reached out malevolently to crush another. The second aura was brighter, more powerful, but threaded with the darkness of a recent murder. Jolee identified Aithne with some sadness. He'd thought she might do something like this when she'd sent him, and more particularly Carth, away this morning.

How far would she go? What all would she do? She would win this fight. Jolee could sense that much. She'd take the information she'd extracted by torture from the Mandalorian. She'd kill the Sith that wanted to use it. And she'd take it to the Sith that ran this Academy, just for the prestige of it. Jolee wondered if here on Korriban the Dark Side would prove too much for Aithne. He sighed sadly. Time would tell. And his bladder called.

* * *

><p>AITHNE POV<p>

Aithne met the others up for lunch at one, just as she had said she would. If her face looked a bit drawn and her eyes a bit shadowed, they were good enough not to comment on it. Jolee made a few attempts at conversation, but they all fell flat. Carth was too nervous, Aithne too tense to talk. Both of them picked at their food.

Finally, noticing the little that his companions had eaten, Jolee shoved aside his own tray. "Ah, let's just get it over and done with," he sighed. "There'll be no living with either of you until we do."

Aithne smiled at him, her first smile of the morning. The three of them rose, and side by side, they headed once again to the room of Dustil Onasi.

He was waiting for them, just as he had said he would be. He let them in when they knocked, quickly closing the door. Afterwards, he crossed his arms, staring mockingly at his father.

"Back already? So tell me, Father, just where is this _proof_ you promised?" His words were harsh, but his eyes revealed a genuine hunger to hear what Carth had discovered. Aithne had given Carth the datapad outside the door. He extended it to his son now.

"I have a datapad I want you to look at," he said calmly. "You knew someone named Selene?"

Dustil took the datapad, surprised. "Selene?" he asked, off his guard for the first time since Aithne had met him. "She's the one who convinced me to come to the Academy with her. I'd been kept on Korriban, but pretty much allowed to do what I liked. I joined…where did you get this?"

"Look at it," Carth insisted. "It belongs to Master Uthar, doesn't it?"

Dustil examined the pad. "Yes, it's his…" As he read, Aithne observed first grief, then anger cross his features. He looked uncannily like Carth did when Carth discussed Telos. "But…he told me..he said that she'd been lost on a mission in the valley. This…this says that they…"

Carth interrupted. "Yes, Dustil. They killed her because she was hindering your progress. Superiority at _any cost_, Dustil," he reminded his son. "There's your evil. Or can you live with that?"

His voice contained both pity for what Dustil had endured and a challenge for the boy's future. Dustil rose to the challenge. He met Carth's eyes, jaw tight.

"No. No, I can't," he said firmly. "I…I had no idea…they lied to me."

Carth nodded in grim satisfaction. "Well there's the son I remember. Now will you leave here?"

Dustil seemed to consider. "I…no…You go do whatever you have to, Father," he said. "I…I have some other friends here. I have to warn them what's going on. And maybe I can, you know, look around here and find out some more information from the inside. Something that might help you."

Aithne regarded the boy. When Dustil made a turnaround, he wasn't shy about it. She respected that.

Carth smiled. "I don't suppose there's any way I could talk you out of that, is there?" he asked, not really expecting an answer. "I mean, you're not going to do anything halfway. Sounds familiar."

Dustil looked expressively at Aithne and Jolee, no doubt thinking about how Carth had basically invaded an entire planet of people with a general order to kill him looking for his son. "I…guess it does."

"I'm proud of you, Dustil," Carth told his son. "You aren't hanging on to a lie after you see it for what it is. Not everyone could do that."

Dustil gave a little, a very little smile. "Maybe," he said awkwardly, "after all this is over, we can…talk. I'm still not sure about…us, but I'll listen. Maybe we can get back to where we should have been."

This was beyond Aithne's wildest hopes. She'd never dreamed that after everything, Dustil would be the first one to initiate a renewal of the relationship.

"I'd like that," was Carth's understated reply. Aithne's heart nearly burst from the pride and love she felt for both of them right then. Carth, obviously, but Dustil, too. He'd made quite an impression with the little he'd said.

"I'll go back to Telos when this is over," he promised his father. "You can find me there. Goodbye, Father."

"Goodbye, son," Carth replied. "Good luck."

"What's with all the goodbyes?" Aithne wanted to know very suddenly. "Look, Dustil, I know we can't jeopardize your new mission or anything, but we'll be here a few more days. Would you mind too terribly if we dropped in every once in a while, when there's no one around? To be ourselves here…it's a blessing."

Dustil considered her for a moment. "Yourselves," he repeated, rolling the word around in his mouth. "You _are_ Aithne Morrigan, aren't you?"

Aithne looked him straight in the face. "Yes. The old man is Jolee Bindo."

Dustil took in a breath. His eyes flicked to the door reflexively. "And Bastila Shan's around someplace, too, isn't she?"

"And what if she is?" Aithne demanded, arms crossed. Suddenly, Dustil grinned mischievously.

"Nothing," he said. "Nothing. Father? Aithne? Jolee? You can drop in whenever you want."

The words were said with a relish and a defiance. Aithne grinned back at him, deciding she thoroughly approved of Dustil Onasi. "Then I guess we'll see you later," she said.

"I guess so," Dustil shot back.

"See you, Dustil," said Carth. The three of them exited the former Sith student's room, quietly making their way to their own.

"There now, Carth," Aithne said wearily. "That was only a little nerve wracking. Not nightmarish in the least."

"Well," Carth smiled, "Dustil hates to be tricked. There's no way he'll let the Sith trick him again. As for whether or not he'll be my son again…I don't know. He's so full of anger and hate…I wasn't expecting him to be like this."

"Hey, the kid's trying," Aithne defended. "Give him a break! He was captured as a child, probably because of his Force Sensitivity. He grew up with Sith. Frankly," she mused, "I'm a bit surprised he wasn't discovered earlier. He might've grown up a Jedi." She shot a sidelong glance at Carth.

"You aren't too bad yourself, you know, when it comes to Force Sensitivity," she added."It's part of what makes you such a good pilot. You're just on the normal side of Force Sensitive. But Dustil…" Aithne let out a low whistle. "The boy's been through a lot. How old is he?"

"Sixteen," Carth replied. "Maybe we can still work it out. I hope so. I guess I'll have to wait and see."

He placed a hand on Aithne's arm, making her look at him. "Thanks," he said. "For everything."

Aithne looked away. "Anytime," she managed past a throat that had gone suddenly tight.

"Lass," Jolee cut in, "What all did you do this morning?"

Aithne stiffened. She didn't want to talk about that. "I was getting prestige," she said shortly. Checking her chrono, she said, "Actually, I have to go. I'm supposed to meet Lashowe out in the valley in an hour and a half. You two stay here."

"Why?" Jolee asked, squaring his stance and crossing his arms.

"Because Lashowe's not stupid," Aithne retorted. "She noticed that you two don't carry yourselves like slaves, and that _you_, Jolee, don't talk like one. She said she'd only work with me if I came alone."

"Aithne," said Jolee in a low tone. Aithne looked away stubbornly.

"I have to get into Naga Sadow," she said quietly. Jolee had been monitoring her. That much was clear.

"What do you know, Jolee?" Carth asked suddenly.

"If Aithne wants to tell you, she will," was the old man's only reply. "Go on, lass, before I change my mind."

Aithne looked at Jolee. "Thank you," she said simply. "I'll be fine," she told them both. Right before she left, she put down the double-bladed vibrosword she'd been carrying all day, and picked up a double-bladed lightsaber. Jolee raised an eyebrow at her, but Aithne didn't answer his silent question. Lashowe carried a lightsaber.

She made her way across the rocky wastelands of Korriban. The light was fading fast. Aithne smiled to herself. She was very close to victory over her competitors. Master Uthar had been very impressed by the sword of Ajunta Pall, and though the information she'd brought from the Mandalorian had not been useful to him, he'd still seen fit to reward her for it. Aithne was willing to bet that she'd be the winner by midday tomorrow.

Really, Aithne thought, it was no wonder the Sith she'd met so far had posed no real challenge. Becoming a Sith was far too easy. They'd pushed her harder in basic training for the Republic fleet! _They're ones to talk of strength,_ she thought to herself.

She spied Lashowe now at the far end of the valley. It had been a piece of cake to flatter Lashowe into leading her right to that holocron. Knowing the vanity of the Sith woman and her reluctance to work alone had only made it easier.

Aithne jogged right up to Lashowe, smiling just as if she didn't intend to betray her. But it was just as well. The light behind Lashowe's eyes was just as false.

"You're here," Lashowe said. "Any later and we would have had to abandon this. I've been calling to the tuk'ata mother in their language…ah, here she comes now. Be careful, she's a tough beast."

Three tuk'ata had indeed loped up behind the two of them. Seeing no fellow tuk'ata about, they instantly were on their guard. Lashowe ignited her lightsaber, a single-handed red blade, and Aithne ignited her own, a double-bladed violet one she'd made at the workbench before arriving on Korriban particularly to disguise her identity should she need to. Lashowe blinked at the change in weapon, but Aithne was on the tuk'ata already.

She fought with single-minded fury, slicing and flipping through the air. She really didn't see what Lashowe had been so worried about. The tuk'ata were tough, true, but they were also slow and clumsy. Once you maneuvered past their horns there was really nothing to fear.

Scarcely forty-five seconds later, the three beasts lay dead at the two women's feet. Lashowe sliced the stomach of the largest open, and smiling in satisfaction, removed the holocron she had allowed Aithne to help her obtain.

"Wonderful," she purred. "We make a better team than I thought. And here is the holocron." She smiled brightly at Aithne. "I'll just take this back to Master Uthar. Don't worry, I'll be sure to mention you."

"Lashowe," Aithne said, tapping her foot impatiently, her lightsaber still unsheathed. "I'm no idiot. I'll be taking that back, not you."

Lashowe looked up into Aithne's cool, amused face. "The plan was to take it back together," she growled.

"Then why didn't you just say so?" asked Aithne, eyebrows arched. "Come now, Lashowe, that was never your plan. And never mine. So just be a dear and hand over that holocron."

Lashowe crouched. "Over my dead body," she said, igniting her own lightsaber.

Aithne smiled. "Okay, we can do that, too." She sprang at the younger woman.

The lightsabers hummed in the growing darkness. Lashowe was new to the Sith, and unprepared to face a lightsaber duelist of Aithne's caliber. This was no surprise, as Aithne had intended for no one to even know she could use one. Aithne was faster and more elegant than Lashowe.

She saw the young woman's narrow blue gaze begin to widen. She saw the fear creep into Lashowe's face. Lashowe knew she was going to die a second before the stroke fell. The last light of the Korriban sun fell on her betrayed blue stare, childlike and hurt. The blow caught her in the side, and she crumpled.

An amazed little laugh escaped her lips. "I trusted you," she said in a rattled whisper. "I was going to let you live, you know. Stupid of me." And then her eyes darkened, and Lashowe nevermore saw the sun.

Aithne stared at Lashowe's corpse. _Yes. Stupid. _She had never even considered letting Lashowe live. She blinked. Why was that? _She was stupid. She was in the way. _

But she hadn't been, Aithne thought. She'd been an insecure bully. No threat, really. Lashowe's accusing glassy eyes stared up at her. "Shut up!" Aithne whispered. She kicked Lashowe's corpse viciously. It had been so easy, killing her. Almost as if…Aithne gave a strangled cry. Leaving the holocron clutched in Lashowe's fist, she ran.

This wasn't her. The killing, the ruthlessness. This wasn't who she was. When had the lines become so blurred? It was only an act, right? _It was an act yesterday, when you maneuvered to get that datapad for Dustil_, Aithne thought. She could've just killed Shaardan this morning when he tried to take Ajunta Pall's sword from her, instead of delighting in sending him to death and dishonor at the hands of Master Uthar. Wasn't it just two days ago that she had vomited and wept for nearly torturing a murderer to death in Dreshdae? Yet today, she had done the same to a prisoner, and killed another man after, just to win some sort of sick popularity contest. Just now, she had murdered a complete nonentity when she hadn't had to at all, and hadn't even considered another option.

She hadn't expected it to be this easy, this insidious. She trembled with a cold that wasn't at all environmental. Korriban's sun had heated the rocky surface all day, and they were still radiating the heat back. She staggered into the Sith Academy, shaking her head.

The Sith Academy had begun to go to bed as Aithne paced the corridors. Everywhere she looked she saw lights flick out under doors. Everywhere except the room she made her way to. She stood in front of the door for a second, unsure whether or not she should enter.

Finally, the door swung open. "I sensed you coming," Dustil said. "You could've just come in, you know," he told her. Then he saw her face.

Aithne clenched the lightsaber in her fists, twisting it this way and that. Why was she here? Here of all places, with a kid she barely knew? Dustil, seeing her wide eyes, took her hand and pulled her inside.

"You're shaking," he said, unnerved. "Your hands are like ice. Sit down." He pushed her down into a tiny chair in the corner. Dustil sat on the bed opposite, and waited. Eventually, Aithne's eyes began tracking again, seeing the room around her, instead of Lashowe's blank, accusing dead face. She shuddered.

"Dustil?" she said.

"Yeah. What's wrong?"

Aithne looked down. "How many people have you killed, Dustil?" she asked. Her voice was very low. Dustil couldn't have been expecting it, but he answered immediately.

"One. Just the one at the test. I've never been able to just go out and kill like the others. It reminded me too much of Telos."

Aithne's laugh rang out harsh and bitter in Dustil's quiet room. Dustil's fists clenched reflexively, and he eyed the door with misgiving. "I've killed so many people, Dustil Onasi," she said hoarsely. "I've lost count. And today, I let myself go enough that I almost stopped caring. This morning I gave Shaardan that sword in the tombs. I knew what would happen to him. I could have knocked the guy out and left him there. But I didn't. I tortured a Mandalorian prisoner to death, too, and killed the interrogator who wanted to claim the information he gave. Just now? I killed Lashowe after helping her to get an artifact she was after. We had said we would present the artifact to Master Uthar together. Neither of us meant it. But she…she would have left me alive. I could've done the same. What kind of threat was she to me? But I killed her."

She said it so baldly Dustil couldn't suppress a shudder. "You're better at this than I ever was," he said, half admiringly, half condemningly.

Aithne looked down at her hands. "Dustil, I think I'm better at this than most anybody." She gave a shaky smile that was the clear prelude to a sob, but she bit her lip. "I was just pretending," she said, when she'd recovered herself. "I need to get to the tomb of Naga Sadow, so I was pretending. But it was all so _easy_, and somewhere along the way I got caught up in it all. I just kept seeing Taris, and the clear, bright line that led from here to Malak. And well, they got in my way."

"Wow." Dustil said. "No one knows exactly what you did to get on Malak's bad side, Aithne Morrigan. But I'm beginning to understand why he wants you dead."

Aithne gave Dustil a weary little smile. "Do you? He needn't be worried." She threw up her hands. "I can't do it anymore. Just now? Right before I killed Lashowe, she looked at me. She was just a kid, Dustil. Just a frightened kid. Someone's sister, someone's daughter. Just- I can't do it anymore."

Dustil shrugged. "So don't," he said. "I was lucky enough to be able to learn from someone else's mistake today. You learn from your own."

"But I still have to get to Naga Sadow," Aithne objected.

"You could try the tombs," Dustil suggested. "It's what I did."

"Thanks for the suggestion," Aithne said. She cracked a smile, but her guard came up. Dustil felt it. He raised an eyebrow at her. "Dustil, why am I telling you all this?" she asked him.

"Because I'm sitting here across from you in a Sith uniform, too," Dustil said levelly. "You needed someone to listen, is all." He chuckled darkly. "My saintly father's never been where you are now, I'll bet. And that old Jedi you have got up like a slave doesn't seem like the type that would say anything useful, somehow."

Aithne grinned a bit ruefully. "You're pretty smart, Dustil Onasi. You've got Jolee pegged, anyhow."

Dustil nodded. He was quiet for a moment, thoughtful. Finally, he said, "Aithne?"

"Yeah, Dustil?"

"From here on out, I'm going to struggle with the Dark Side every day, aren't I?"

Aithne closed her eyes. "Yes," she said, after a moment.

"Well. Better that I know now, then. Let me see if I can sum all this up. It's simple to get caught up in the Dark Side. Compassion can far too easily be twisted to anger. And my goals, however noble they might be, are no justification for me to go plowing through sentient life. Is that right?"

Aithne stared at him. Dustil smiled ironically at her. "It's what you just said, basically. But the Light Side also preaches redemption, doesn't it? Like my father's made mistakes, but got it right this time."

Aithne's smile broadened. "Life preaches redemption," she corrected. "Things that die renew themselves every year. A tree that grows crooked may yet grow straight. Thanks, Dustil."

"Hey, I'm here to help," Dustil said. "So. You and Father are on some sort of mission to stop Malak?"

Aithne nodded, feeling much better.

"And Father's under your command?"

Aithne winced. "Not exactly. We kind of fell in together, before I was even trained as a Jedi. He stuck around. He gives me advice and pilots the ship I'm borrowing from a Mandalorian friend of mine."

"Dad piloting a Mandalorian's ship?" Dustil laughed, incredulous.

"I know. But every word is true!"

"Sounds complicated."

Aithne grimaced. "You don't know the half of it."

Dustil observed her face. He was silent for a moment, casually studying a datapad on his desk.

"Uthar's? Or the death order?" Aithne asked.

Dustil shook his head. "I got rid of Uthar's datapad," he said. "I'm not stupid. It's the death order. I got issued it last week, along with a notice that I'm to prepare to leave for battle in a month."

Aithne looked at it. "We got here just in time," she said.

"It was insanely dangerous for you to come," Dustil said. "There's not much of a description of you, luckily, and probably nobody in this Academy besides me knows Father, but still. And you came here for me, didn't you?"

"Well, we do have to get to Naga Sadow," Aithne said.

"Dad could've landed the ship in the hills somewhere and you could've broken in," Dustil said. "You came for me."

Aithne looked down, and then she nodded.

"I know you had to have gone to some trouble to get me that datapad," he said. "Father wouldn't have the access at all, seeing as everyone thinks he's a slave. You must have done some serious flips. Why?" His eyes searched her face, and Aithne shifted.

"Dustil…"

"You love him," Dustil accused.

Aithne was silent.

"Does he love you?"

"I don't know," Aithne admitted quietly. "A few weeks ago I would have said no, but sometimes…"

Dustil swallowed. "It's been four years," he said roughly. "Not so long to me. I was twelve."

His eyes clouded briefly, and Aithne knew he was seeing the ships flying over Telos, and smelling the burning buildings, and hearing the anguished cries.

"My mother was the most wonderful woman in the galaxy," he said fiercely.

"So I've heard," Aithne said calmly.

Dustil was taken aback. "You have?"

"Yes. Ever since Carth figured he'd trust me enough to tell me about her, he's told me a lot. She was brave, funny, kind and generous. His biggest regret is leaving you and her to join the war against Revan and Malak after he'd said he'd leave the Fleet. Her death, and he thought, yours, tore him apart. He swore vengeance on the man responsible for the attack. It's the only thing that's kept him going."

Dustil snorted. "Yeah, well, better he stayed home in the first place," he said bitterly, but with no real heat.

"I'm not disagreeing with you," Aithne replied. Dustil blinked at her. He stared at her for a long time.

"It's okay," he said finally, with the air of someone who has just dropped a great weight off his shoulders.

"What's okay?"

"You and Father," he sighed. "After everything that's happened…" He smiled crookedly, looking eerily like his father in the lamplight. "Better that some good come out of all this. And you?" He looked her up and down, considering. "I think he could do worse."

Aithne smiled. She hadn't even known how much she wanted Dustil's approval until he'd given it. She felt twenty pounds lighter. She placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to convey her emotions.

He grinned. "You're pretty hot, too," he added wickedly. "If only you weren't so old."

Aithne laughed, and pushed him slightly. "Shut up, you runt of a Gamorrean."

Dustil snickered. "Seriously? 'Runt of a Gamorrean'?"

Aithne rose. "You are your father's son, Onasi," she told him. "And that's not a bad thing."

Aithne smiled all the way back to her own room. She knew explanations would have to be given to a very worried Carth and Jolee. But that was okay. Everything was okay. Life went on, and tomorrow was another day, with no mistakes in it.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Last line borrowed from Anne of Green Gables. I don't own that either. So. I'm not sure how this works. Does it pack the punch it needs to? Leave a review and let me know!**

**May the Force be With You,**

**LMSharp**


	24. Coming Clean

**Disclaimer: Blah blah blah Doesn't belong to me Yada yada yada**

* * *

><p>Chapter Twenty-Four<p>

CARTH POV

Carth woke late the next morning. He sat up and looked around. He was alone in the little Sith room. Aithne was gone, and Jolee was gone with her. Carth kicked out of his bedroll, made it up again, changed clothes and shaved quickly, disgruntled, to say the least. He was about to set out to look for his truant friends, when he noticed a datapad on the bed.

_Gone to the mess. Be back soon, and you better be up, C! –A._

Carth smiled at his bad mood, reflecting that he and Jolee had done the exact same thing to Aithne the day before. He looked over the note again, respecting how she'd just used initials, lest anyone see the pad but him. He munched on an energy bar and sat down to wait.

Normally, he would have been the first one up. Normally, he would not have stayed up so late waiting for Aithne. The woman had gotten back insanely late the night before. Carth had been worried. When she had finally gotten back, pale with red-rimmed eyes, Jolee had supported his stipulation that any further activity on Korriban was to be run by him and Jolee first if Aithne was to undertake it solo, and then only if she absolutely could not take them along. They'd been prepared to fight her on it, but surprisingly, she had agreed easily, clapped them both on the back, and fallen asleep without further ado.

Nonetheless, if Carth knew Aithne, she'd say that he deserved to miss breakfast for sleeping late, despite the fact that she'd complained loudly about he and Jolee's desertion the day before, despite the fact that he'd only slept late because he'd been up late the night prior on her account. Carth grinned, already anticipating the teasing reprimand.

Just then a knock came at the door. Carth put on his slave face, and answered it, expecting Yuthura Ban or some sort of messenger.

"Master's not in," he said automatically, then blinked. His son stood in the doorway. "Um, Addison's out," he amended, looking left and right to make sure they were alone.

"I know," Dustil said shortly. "I saw her at the mess. She said I'd find you here. May I come in?"

Carth stepped aside, and Dustil stepped in, closing the door behind him.

"You want to, uh, sit down?" Carth asked awkwardly. Really, what was he supposed to say to Dustil? He hadn't seen his son for years. Dustil was wrong in saying that Carth had never known him, but it was certainly true that Carth didn't know him now. The last time he had seen Dustil, his son had been a bright, cheerful, honest boy of eleven-and-a-half, waving goodbye to him at the spaceport, not this hard-faced young man in a Sith uniform.

Dustil sat down wordlessly on the standard chair. Carth sat on the bed. An awkward pause swelled out to fill the room. Carth and Dustil both started speaking at the same time.

"I'm sorry I threatened to kill you," Dustil said.

"I'm sorry I left you and your mother when the war started," Carth said.

Both men looked down, and gave a single nervous chuckle. Carth continued. "Don't worry about it," he said, referring to Dustil's threats. "I was wrong, to demand you leave without even asking what had happened." He winced, remembering Aithne's lecture after that first conversation.

Dustil's mouth quirked. "What's done is done," he said. "Both then and now. You messed up," he paused, and looked at Carth hard. "But I think you meant well. But that's not what I really wanted to talk about."

Carth blinked. "What do you want to know?" he asked.

"I talked to Aithne last night," Dustil informed his father.

Carth was a little taken aback. She hadn't mentioned anything of the sort when she'd come in last night. He wasn't displeased, actually, he rather liked the idea of Aithne befriending his son, but still, it was surprising. "Did you?" he managed.

Dustil shrugged. "She told me some things. She's not crazy like I thought. Or like you told me."

Carth rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Yes, well, she was being particularly annoying that morning. But you're right. She's not crazy. She's unpredictable sometimes. She's always brilliant, always dangerous, and sometimes reckless. But, no. I don't really think she's crazy."

"Then why did she act so strangely that first time?" Dustil demanded. "She kept making all these ridiculous comments when I was about ready to tear your head off…" He let out a soft chuckle. "That was it, wasn't it?"

Carth chuckled, too. "Yeah. She thought if you were preoccupied thinking she was crazy, you might not kill me."

Dustil smiled ruefully, abruptly serious. "She might've saved your life, old man," he said. Carth looked sadly at his son.

"Really?" he asked Dustil.

Dustil looked away. "I don't know," he said in a quiet, controlled voice. "I really don't, Father. I was pretty angry. Still am, even now. But now," and he looked up at Carth and smiled. "I'm trying to control it and work it out. The Sith tried to get me to harness my anger. It'll take a while for me to unlearn that, I think."

"At least you're making the effort," Carth said approvingly.

"Look," Dustil said in an abrupt change of subject. "Aithne didn't tell me much last night. How exactly did you two meet? How did you get here? Why?"

"It's a long story," Carth protested.

Dustil smirked. "Aithne and Jolee ought to be sparring right now. I sort of told them I wanted to talk to you. We've got time." He sat back, arms crossed, waiting.

Carth laughed. "Fine. You always did like stories." He leaned forward, and began. "I was empty inside, seeking revenge on Saul Karath. I used to tell you about him, remember? He was my mentor, until he betrayed the Republic and ordered the attack on Telos." Carth clenched his fists. "I'm still going to find him one day, Dustil, and I'll kill him for that, but what I'm doing now is more important."

Dustil's face was unreadable. " I see. Go on."

Carth nodded grimly. "I was on a ship, on an escort mission to take Bastila Shan from Dantooine to Coruscant. My position was purely advisory. We came out of hyperspace above Taris. The Sith were waiting for us. There was an ambush, and the ship was boarded."

"You nearly were blown up," Dustil said, surprised. He seemed troubled by it.

Carth nodded. "I nearly was. But I made my way to the escape pods. Bastila was already gone, and most of the soldiers aboard my ship were already dead, but I contacted a few. Some of them made it to the escape pods. Most of them didn't. And all of the ones that made it that far didn't get any further, except for the last two: a rookie, and a woman who wasn't even a soldier. She was a scout and linguist, also an advisor. They had made it through several firefights relatively unharmed, but as they got close to me, we lost the rookie. The woman, however, made it all the way. We escaped to Taris just as the ship exploded."

"You and a woman?" Dustil asked.

"Yes. Aithne and I."

Dustil shook his head. "Aithne's a Jedi," he objected. "Not a scout and linguist."

"She wasn't a Jedi four months ago," Carth countered. "She was a scout and linguist."

Dustil raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Carth nodded. "Really. Anyway, when the pod crashed, Aithne was banged up pretty bad. I dragged her away. We found a place to hide out. She was unconscious for three days. But then she woke up and I told her the situation. We had to find Bastila for the sake of the war effort. And Aithne took charge right away." Carth laughed. "The woman _hates_ following orders. And she loves to give them. But she saved our butts there on Taris. She came up with plans, made allies left and right, singlehandedly saved Bastila, and became the Taris swoop and dueling champions in the bargain. We picked up five crew members, including Bastila, on Taris alone."

"All I know about is you, Aithne, Bastila, and that old Jedi Jolee," Dustil said.

"We didn't meet Jolee until later, but on Taris we met a Mandalorian named Canderous who offered to help us steal a ship from a crime lord,"

"Oh, yes. Aithne did mention him. Can't believe you're working with a Mandalorian, Father," Dustil remarked.

"I can't either, some days," Carth laughed. "Anyway, we also picked up an astromech droid on Taris that was supposed to belong to that crime lord I mentioned earlier. There's Zaalbar: a Wookiee Aithne rescued from slavery in the Undercity sewers. He swore a lifedebt to her, and so Mission decided to come too. She's Zaalbar's Twi'lek best friend, and the best stealth op I've ever seen, despite the fact she's two years younger than you, Dustil. I think the pair of them were living on the streets of the Lower City before Aithne found them. And then there was Bastila, the arrogant Jedi princess necessary to the war effort. At first, Aithne didn't get along with her at all."

Dustil laughed. "Pretty diverse group. You got off Taris just before its destruction? Aithne did mention that you saw it destroyed."

"We did," Carth said sadly. "Mission was pretty upset. Bastila ordered us all to Dantooine. And that's where things got strange." Carth sat back. He still didn't understand what had happened on Dantooine. "Bastila had been harping on at Aithne about her Force Sensitivity, and she told the Council. And the Council bought it. They practically forced her to join the Order."

"She kind of lights up the Force, Father," Dustil said.

Carth shook his head. "That's no excuse," he said. "Aithne was furious, but she trained."

"And you stayed with her?" The words were casual, but Dustil leaned forward.

"I radioed in to Admiral Dadonna. They didn't want to lose track of Bastila again, not with her Battle Meditation. They ordered me to stay with her. And for whatever reason, Bastila and Aithne have this 'bond', or so they say." Carth shrugged. "We all stayed. Once the Jedi started talking about Aithne's destiny and mission, I guess Canderous must've figured that he could get a fight out of it. And Zaalbar and Mission weren't going to leave."Carth shook his head. "We could've been there for months. Should have, probably, and then only let go with a Master. But the Council let her go after just six weeks."

Dustil blinked. "Six weeks? Really?" He shook his head. "Can't be. Father, I would have guessed that Aithne's been training since she was six, at least."

Carth nodded. "She's incredibly strong. I- she's more powerful than Bastila. But still, I never would have believed it either if I hadn't seen it myself. She became a Consular, though, and we picked up another crew member there on Dantooine, a Cathar Jedi Guardian named Juhani. And then the Jedi Council set Aithne and Bastila and Juhani off on a quest to save the galaxy, and again, I was asked to accompany them. The others just came along for the ride."

Dustil drummed his fingers on his arms. "Hmm. Just how are you supposed to save the galaxy, Father?"

"You've been to Naga Sadow?" Carth said. "You saw the Star Map?"

Dustil nodded, comprehending. "Oh. Like that. You hope it'll lead you to something? The coordinates are incomplete."

"We already have two other sets, both with different and complementary coordinate sets, from Dantooine and Kashyyyk," explained Carth.

The corner of Dustil's mouth quirked up, and his eyes danced. "Edean. You don't say. There was some trouble there recently, I've heard." Carth couldn't restrain the broad grin that came to his face, and Dustil laughed. "Come on, then, old man, what do you know about it?"

"That was one of Aithne's pet projects," Carth laughed. "She figured that while we were on Kashyyyk, we might as well start a slave rebellion. Kashyyyk's also where we picked up Jolee. He's a reclusive ex-Jedi who's spent the last hundred years living in the Shadowlands."

Dustil snorted. "That explains a lot," he muttered. "He almost looked like a tree. So you left Edean in ruins and came here. And Aithne's been playing the Sith to get to Naga Sadow."

"And to find you," Carth reminded him. "We'd actually planned on Tatooine next, until we heard news of you."

Dustil shifted in his seat. "Interesting story," he said. "Not as bloody as your old ones. A hell of a lot weirder, though. So. Aithne. She's something, huh?"

Carth laughed. "I'll say. I'm never sure quite what to do with her. She's smart. Funny, too. She's dangerous. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if she fell to the Dark Side, and I get- I get more than a little bit nervous. But I've- I've seen her do incredibly good things, just for the sake of it."

"She's also beautiful," Dustil said in a low voice, looking pointedly at Carth. Carth fell silent, realizing he'd said too much. He looked hard at his son. Dustil's jaw was set, but his eyes held no anger, only sadness.

"It's okay, Dad," Dustil said finally, and Carth took the more familiar title as a good sign. "You loved Mother, right?"

"Very much," Carth whispered.

"I've thought about it all night," Dustil said. "And the fact that you love Aithne won't change that."

"I don't…" Carth began. Dustil held up a hand.

"Not yet," he cut in. "But you're getting there. I sense it." He smiled crookedly. "She already loves you, Father. She has for a while."

"I know," Carth said softly. He studied his hands.

"It's okay," Dustil said again. "She's good for you. I can tell that much already. I think it's time we both move on. And you won't find another woman like Aithne Morrigan if you look the rest of your life. Mother…Mother was the most wonderful woman in the galaxy," he managed. Carth looked up at Dustil.

"I'll never love Aithne like I loved your Mother, Dustil," Carth said firmly.

"Maybe not," said Dustil. "Maybe you'll love her differently, but you will love her just as much."

"Dustil…" Carth hesitated. He looked hard at his son. "Are you sure?"

Dustil stood. "Old man," he said, a glint in his eye. "I'll be angrier at you if you _don't_ go for it. So go for it." But just before he left, he looked at Carth, a little more serious. "Look, Father, I've talked to a few of the guys, and we all think we ought to get out of here with what we know before things get worse. I'm hopping a ship with them later this afternoon. So this is the last time I'll see you for…a while, I guess. So good luck. Goodbye." He slipped out of the room quietly, leaving Carth with a lot to sort out.

But as he thought, he began to feel lighter, and happier than he'd felt in years. Carth stood.

He needed to find Aithne.

* * *

><p>AITHNE POV<p>

Aithne was in the dueling room, sparring with Jolee. They'd both worked up a sweat and were grinning like two idiots. Aithne bore down on Jolee with her double-bladed violet lightsaber, slowly forcing him back. She laughed.

"You mentioned something about your adventuring days?" she grunted.

Jolee threw her off and feinted a blow to her side. Aithne blocked his true stroke without even flinching.

"Did I say that?" he replied evenly. "Strange the tricks memory plays on you when you get older."

Aithne flipped over the old man's head, leveling her saber at his back. He whirled to face her before her feet touched the ground. "So?" Aithne asked impatiently. "Were you an adventurer or weren't you?"

Jolee flicked his saber off, striding away. "Didn't I say that my past was my affair?" he said. "You don't see me poking and prodding you with questions, do you?"

Aithne flicked off her own saber, skipping a little to catch up with him. "Your interjections are annoying enough. This is my revenge." She laughed at his sour expression and poked him in the arm. "You're just not used to company. Stop being an old coot!"

Jolee smiled, albeit reluctantly. "Hmph," he growled. "I might be. But a mouthy young thing like yourself shouldn't get to call me an old coot, dammit! And besides, you don't really want to hear about me. We're talking ancient history, probably before you were born. History bores kids, proven fact."

Aithne picked up her pack from where it lay, extricated her canteen, and took a long drink. "Yeah?" she said after swallowing. "Well old people love to talk about history. Proven fact."

Jolee grimaced. "Oh, fine, fine, have it your way. Just don't cry about it later. Yes, yes, I was an adventurer. Happy now? I wasn't even done with my…" he looked around. Everyone was out in the valley searching for prestige. No one was within one hundred feet in any direction. But Jolee still lowered his voice. "…Jedi training back then. I had a full head of hair and an eagerness to see absolutely everything. Sound familiar? The Council was never very happy with willful, brash Jolee Bindo, you see. Even less so when I began my smuggling career."

Aithne choked on a swallow of water. "You were a smuggler?" she asked incredulously, eying Jolee with a new respect.

"Don't look at me like that, dammit!" grumbled Jolee. "I wasn't always the wrinkled old coot I am now, you know." He stashed his saber under his ratty robe as the two of them emerged into the Academy corridor. "I can still fight, too, so wipe that smirk of your face."

Aithne held up her hands. "No," she protested. "I'm impressed, really."

"At the time the Ukatis system was interdicted by its own king," Jolee related. "He preferred to keep his people starving and poor, the better to oppress them. The Senate was trying to negotiate peace, but they were getting nowhere as usual. I decided I wasn't going to wait. I found myself a ship and a partner and we began smuggling food and supplies to the Ukatis citizenry through the blockade."

Aithne made a small noise of approval. "But where'd you get the credits for all the supplies?"

Jolee shifted uncomfortably. "Well, we didn't _buy_ all the equipment, per se. Some were happy to donate goods. Some we just, ah, knew had more than they could use."

Aithne snorted. "So you stole it?" she asked drily.

"'Stole' is such a harsh word," Jolee complained. "They would have donated those goods readily enough if they were compassionate. I considered it a tax on the greedy. We only got caught once. A lone Ukatish freighter shot us down and forced a crash landing. I thought the Force had abandoned me, as I remember."

"So what happened then?"

Jolee looked off into the distance, his face oddly mixed between happiness and sadness and bitter, bitter regret. "Well, as it happens," he said softly, "getting shot down turned out to be very fortunate. That day was the day I…"

"That was the day you what?" demanded Aithne. She wanted to hear this. "Go on!"

"Well, that, that was the day I met my wife," Jolee said.

Aithne's jaw dropped. She felt it. "You were married?" she gasped.

Jolee rolled his eyes. "You know another way to get a wife?" he demanded crankily. "But yes, that's when I met her. If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer to stop talking now. My mouth is starting to draw flies."

And Carth was jogging up. Aithne looked around wildly, and a lone Sith student was turning the corner. So she smiled. "Ah. You have come, slave, just as I commanded," she said in a cold voice. "Good. I may have need of you today."

She was mimicking Master Uthar's tone, and Carth caught it. The corner of his mouth quirked up. He made a little bow. "Master," he murmured. Aithne fought to keep her grin off her face, and kept walking. Carth fell into step with her and Jolee.

"Have a nice talk with Dustil?" she asked him, when they were a suitable distance away from the Sith student.

"Yes," he answered just as lowly. "But what are we doing now?"

"We're going to hit up about three more prestige spots before dinner," Aithne said firmly. "The Shyrack Caves, and the tombs of Marka Ragnos and Tulak Hord. Then I ought to have enough prestige to make Sith, easy."

"Master, there was something about the tombs," Carth said, trying hard to remember. "One of the masters said that Uthar's old master has been hiding out there doing some sort of research, and giving any students he meets a lot of trouble."

Aithne grinned. "Bring it on," she said. "We can dish out the trouble ourselves, if it comes down to it."

Carth shifted. He still looked uneasy, and it was enough to put just the vaguest doubt into Aithne's head.

But as they began, it seemed like Aithne's doubt and Carth's uneasiness would be entirely unwarranted. It was true that there was a menacing terentatek in the Shyrack Caves that had killed a number of the ex-Sith refugees that Master Uthar wanted eliminated. But it was also true that Aithne's experiments with the Dark Side had given her an edge she previously hadn't had with the creature, and that this one seemed to be weak and old, in any case. It was a tough fight, but neither Aithne nor her companions were seriously damaged. After picking up another datapad containing information on the Great Hunt and gaining a truly excellent set of Jedi Robes, Aithne allowed the refugees to depart. There were enough bodies in the caves to convince Master Uthar that someone had been there without having to kill perfectly good people that were posing no threat to anyone. Aithne remembered the lesson of the day before.

Marka Ragnos' tomb was, if anything, easier. There were a bunch of droids in there, but they were ridiculously easy to dispatch, and Aithne had asked around and found out about their leader's sound difficulties beforehand. So when she finally met the rogue assassin droid that had been giving Master Uthar so much trouble, she met it as a friend, and with some commonsensical repairs and restructuring, she was able to disable the droid's assassination programming and fix its audio receptors without destroying the droid, which was truly a masterpiece of craftsmanship.

Everything seemed to be going swimmingly. But ironically because of her success, Aithne was very apprehensive as she approached the tomb of Tulak Hord. In her experience, whenever things were going their best, life would send around a truly nasty blow. There she stood, one item away from complete and total victory, once more walking the moral tightrope to which she was accustomed, and it only made sense that a cruel cosmic punch to the gut was just around the corner.

But upon entering the tomb, Aithne was surprised to find that there was nothing too terribly nasty in the first few rooms. They were dusty and crumbling, but they contained nothing more dangerous than a few tuk'ata. Aithne was at last beginning to relax when she arrived at the ancient console that would allow her into the hallway that preceded the burial chamber of Tulak Hord. It was child's play to slice the system, and the door opened. She walked fearlessly into the hall, while Carth knelt to examine a corpse.

Aithne and Jolee stepped into the middle of the hall, and Carth ran up, extending a hand, "Aithne! Wait!"

But by then, of course, the trap had been triggered, and fumes surrounded Aithne and Jolee. Carth had no time to react as he, too, succumbed to the contact nerve gas.

* * *

><p>Aithne felt a tingling sensation return to her arms and legs. She opened her eyes, and tried to move, with no result. She bit back a swear. <em>Should've thrown something into that corridor, <em>she thought furiously. _You'd think I was some idiot ten year old trying to play archaeologist! _

A bald, wrinkled head turned, pale as chalk, and two dark yellow eyes regarded her with amusement from a shriveled, evil face.

"Awake already, are you?"

The man possessed a high, whining sort of voice that grated Aithne's nerves immediately.

"Good!" her captor continued. "This is the tomb of the Sith Lord Tulak Hord, if you don't know. I've taken up residence here, for now…it's dusty and full of critters, but it's home."

He smiled angelically, or as angelically as anyone with his face could. Aithne looked around. She stood almost directly in front of Tulak Hord's sarcophagus. She saw Carth and Jolee in the shadows, standing, but both out cold. Aithne assumed the man was using the Force to hold them in place.

"I demand to be released at once!" she said. Her voice came out hoarse and squeaky. But Aithne refused to blush, and somehow the wimpy tone came across as suitably defiant.

The wrinkled man, however, merely laughed in her face. "I may do that, in time, in time," he said, very amused. "But for now, I've decided to keep you in restraints. No point in you getting strange ideas in your head and ruining my fun. No, no. Let's keep things on a more civilized note, shall we?"

Aithne let out a harsh chuckle, which served both to express her contempt and to clear her throat. "If you call keeping prisoners in dusty tombs civilized," she said.

The little man smiled unpleasantly. "Now then, introductions are always the place to start, if I remember correctly. This other student here that I captured earlier you should know well enough. His name is Mekel. Say hello, Mekel."

For the first time, Aithne noticed that they were not alone with the madman. For sure enough, held beside her, was the cruel visage of Mekel. A surge of hatred rushed through Aithne. She knew Mekel well enough, alright. She could hardly forget those stupid, starving hopefuls at the gate that had fallen victim to his cruelty. But Mekel wasn't looking too well, she noticed. His breathing was shallow. He was sweating. It looked like he was fighting to keep his eyes open, and what she could see of them was bloodshot and terror-stricken. He looked like a man who had been pushed to the limits of what he could bear.

When Mekel heard his name, he hardly reacted at all. His eyelids fluttered briefly. He let out a groan. The evil old man that held them all prisoner laughed.

"Poor lad," he said in a mocking tone. "He's had a hard day. My name is Jorak Uln. I was once the head of the Academy, so I'm sure you've heard of me."

Aithne shot a glance at the still unconscious Carth, berating herself again for not being more careful. She returned her gaze to Jorak, warily. "I've heard enough," she growled.

Jorak chuckled maliciously. "Let's move on to the main event, shall we? You see, I'd like to discover if you've got the pluck of an old-fashioned Sith. Most of the drek Uthar has been passing through these days is so pathetic. Take young Mekel here," he said with a contemptuous gesture. "I already tested him. Didn't I, Mekel?"

"..I.." Mekel groaned.

"Yes, yes, you're welcome," drawled Jorak. "You see," he confided to Aithne, "Mekel here has the cruel disposition of a Sith…but not the gumption I'm looking for."

Aithne merely snarled. Over in the corner, Jolee was beginning to come to, still weak.

"Lass, what's going…" but Jorak made a gesture, and he fell silent.

"There will be no interruptions tolerated from your friends," Jorak told Aithne quickly. "They will either be spared or destroyed along with you."

"Can't we talk about this?" Aithne asked, looking past Jorak at Carth.

Jorak followed her gaze and laughed in delight. "I'm sure we could," he leered. "You could even try using your feminine wiles on me. But quite frankly, I'm quite determined and not above killing a woman. Even a pretty one. Perhaps you have some questions?"

Aithne wanted to protest that it wasn't her own death she was worried about, but Jorak eyed her coldly, and she knew it wouldn't be of any use. She sighed.

"Do your worst, scum."

Jorak chuckled. Aithne tried in vain to tighten her fist. She wanted desperately to wipe that ridiculous smirk off of his bat-like face. "Now, now," he chided her. "Is that any kind of attitude to take with higher education? I'm doing you a favor, really. So then! This is how it goes: I'm going to pose a moral question to you. Get it right, and I torture Mekel. Get it wrong, and I torture you. Mekel here is a bit weak…he probably won't be able to take much more punishment. Mind you, get too many wrong and you'll die yourself. I don't know what you think of Mekel. Maybe you don't like him. Maybe you think he deserves to be murdered. Well, here's your chance. Fair enough?"

Aithne looked at Mekel. As a matter of fact, that was exactly what she thought. But she hated to have it said so coldly. So acidly, she retorted. "Of course. It's always been my _dream_ to murder my competition via a sadistic personality test given by a _demented monster_ in the middle of a crumbling _tomb_."

"My, my, aren't you fun," said Jorak lightly. "Any last comments before we begin, Mekel?"

Mekel, by some supreme force of strength, managed to wrench his head to the side and look at Aithne.  
>"We can both survive," he grunted out. "Attack him together!"<p>

Jorak's eyebrows met in a childish pout, and he forced Mekel's head back to its station. "Now, now, dear lad," he said in a honeyed tone that did little to hide his displeasure. "Do you really think your friend here will answer questions wrong just to spare little you, risking her own life? And how many correctly answered questions before you die, hmm? No, don't be silly…you had your chance, remember? On that note," he said, turning to Aithne, "let's begin. Now then, your immediate superior amongst the Sith is an effective commander and a fine leader. He trusts you, and you like him. You see an opportunity to kill him. What do you do?"

Aithne shot a glance at Mekel, who looked at her with hopeful eyes. She remembered how cruel and arrogant those eyes had been in the face of starving _children_. She sneered. "I use the opportunity to kill him and take his position in the Sith," she replied promptly. Carth stirred.

"Very good," Jorak hummed, turning on Mekel with a malevolent gleam in his eyes. "It looks like your friend is more of a Sith than you, Mekel. Time for your punishment." Purple lightning shot from his fingers into Mekel's body. Mekel shivered with the impact, screaming a hoarse scream that let Aithne know he'd been screaming for hours. Aithne tried to harden herself to the sound.

The old Sith continued the evaluation. "And so we come to Round Two," he said. "You come across a group of humans who are threatened by dangerous animals. They plead for help, offering you a reward. What do you do?"

Aithne licked her dry lips before responding insincerely, "I take the money and leave the weak fools to their fate."

More lightning. More of Mekel's screams. But the sound did not bring Aithne the pleasure she'd anticipated. She remembered Carth, comforting her in Dreshdae. _You won't do it again,_ he'd said. And Dustil, just last night. _It's simple to get caught up in the Dark Side. Compassion can too easily be twisted to anger._ Aithne looked over at Mekel. A thin trickle of blood ran out of his mouth. Jolee's eyes stared right at her. Not accusing, but not pardoning her either.

Aithne looked over at Carth, and found his eyes open. He was looking at her too, and he looked so disappointed and heartbroken. Aithne felt like she'd been slapped awake. She felt the Dark all around her, and she set her jaw. _I'm not going there again. _

Jorak was rambling on about how brilliant she was. Finally he got around to the actual question. "You discover an aspect of the Force that gives you great power," he said, eyes glinting. "Do you share it and strengthen the Sith as a whole or keep it to yourself?"

Aithne swallowed. "I share it," she managed. Then she smiled into Jorak's ugly, animalistic face. It felt like an enormous weight had been lifted off her chest. "Let all learn who care to," she added provokingly. Carth's brow furrowed in confusion. Aithne looked at him. He hadn't been awake for the explanation. Jolee's eyes, on the other hand, suddenly cleared, and approval shone forth.

Jorak Uln, on the other hand, was quite irate. "Share it?" he demanded, fairly spluttering with rage. "You gain an advantage and you share it freely? I mean, share it? Are you mad?" He shook his head regretfully.

"Ah, well, you did ask for this. It's for your own good."

Pain tore through every nerve of Aithne's body. Previously, her entire body had been dead. Now it was alive, and it was being fried. It took every shred of Aithne's self-will to clamp her lips shut and keep her throat tight over the scream that threatened to emerge. Abruptly, the pain ceased, leaving Aithne sweating and shaking, but every nerve was awake. He'd burned the nerve gas out. She tried to move, and her muscles responded, but Jorak held her in place with the Force.

She forced a smile at Jorak, feigning indifference. "Still going?" he sneered. "Alright then. One of your underlings has made a major mistake which makes you look bad. He is normally very competent and skilled. Do you kill him or give him another chance?"

"Why, I give him another chance of course," Aithne said, panting a little, surprised by how she reveled in her defiance.

Jorak was nearly incoherent in his incredulity. He sniffed at last. "Fine. Time for your medicine."

The Lightning ignited her already raw nerves. She smelled a faint burning arising from her skin as her vision grew blurry and her lips began to bleed from the force with which she held back her cries. Despite herself, a tear traced its way down her cheek. The Lightning stopped, but now the very draft of the tomb was a torture on her anguished skin.

She looked at Carth again, and saw that he understood now. His eyes were wide in horror and sympathy and desperate, futile rage. "Stop this," he mouthed, but his voice couldn't come out of the throat Jorak had locked. Aithne shook her head.

"Last question," barked out Jorak.

"Bring it on," Aithne whispered through bloodied lips. She smiled at him, at Mekel.

"You're about to die," sneered Jorak. "Do you pass on your knowledge to your apprentice to make him stronger or do you use your last breath to strike at your enemies?"

Something in his shining yellow eyes made Aithne hesitate. "I won't give you the satisfaction of an answer," she spat finally.

"Hmph!"complained Jorak. "Such insolent students I get these days. You deserve this, and then some! I'll enjoy this. Time for your medicine!"

And then he released such a volley of Force Lightning that even Aithne could not restrain the full bodied scream that wrenched from her throat. Her eyes seemed to fog over as she burned alive, and the sound of her screams seemed to come from far away. Finally, finally, though, the Lightning stopped.

Aithne breathed. She'd won. She opened her eyes and looked straight at Jorak, and he shifted. "What? This is odd. The test is over and you're both still alive. Well that's never happened before."

Jorak was pacing, muttering, "What to do, what to do?"

Finally he stopped, turning to Mekel. "I suppose this means you can go, Mekel. I'll just have to figure out what to do with our friend, here." He released Mekel's restraints, and the Sith student stood tall, panting. "Run along, now," said Jorak.

Mekel remained, glaring at Jorak. "Or," he said quietly. "I could use the Force to free her! And we could kill you! Seems you didn't think of that, old man!"

And with a wave of his hand, he freed Aithne, Carth, and Jolee, releasing a Drain Life at the same moment Aithne released a wave of Force Heal covering Carth and Jolee's remaining weakness and her and Mekel's wounds. She summoned her saber from her abandoned pack in the hallway to her hand, and froze Jorak in place. She and Mekel advanced.

It was brief, brutal justice for Uthar's old master. Aithne stood panting at the end, staring down at Jorak's body, letting the hurt dissipate.

Mekel turned to her. "I can't believe that I'm alive," he said honestly. "You saved me. You could have easily just answered those questions and let me die."

Aithne regarded him with distaste. "I thought about it," she said finally. "I really did. For those hopefuls outside the gate, and all the ones you must have killed like them, I almost did. But…" she sighed, stretching her still faintly smarting limbs and remembering the torture. "Nobody deserves to die like that. Not even you."

Mekel looked down. "I see what you mean," he said quietly. Aithne looked at him curiously, and gestured for him to continue. "I've never…I mean I've never been on that side of the fence before," he confessed. "It makes you think. I'd be dead if you weren't…" he eyed Aithne's saber. "I mean, if you were a proper Sith. But you're not, are you?"

Aithne activated the saber, twisting it to admire the violet color of the double blade. Mekel tensed, but did not touch his own lightsaber. Aithne shook her head. "Don't worry. Technically, it should be bright green. It will be again, once I'm off this rock."

Mekel swallowed. "I see. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

Aithne deactivated her saber. She considered Mekel for a second. "You know, you don't have to be like this," she said. "You can change."

Mekel looked down at Aithne's dead saber again. "You mean, the Light Side? I've never thought about that. Can you…can you even go back? I've done some…I mean I've hurt a lot of people."

Jolee, from behind Aithne's left shoulder, spoke up.

"There's always remorse. And atonement. That's the harder path, though, boy. Think you can do that?"

Mekel looked at his own saber, thinking hard. "I…I don't think the Light Side is for me," he said finally. "But maybe…maybe neither are the Sith. Maybe it's time for me to leave. Thanks, I suppose, Addison, or whatever your name is, and good luck."

He strode out of the tomb, lost, but somehow much more full of purpose than Aithne had ever seen him.

Aithne turned. Wordlessly, Carth handed her a datapad. Perusing it, Aithne saw that it contained Jorak's research, something Master Uthar was sure to find interesting. She stashed the datapad away without a sound.

She led them out of the tomb in silence. Without further word to either Carth or Jolee, lest the Sith hear, she led them all the way back to the Academy and to Master Uthar.

Uthar, after hearing her thorough report of all she had done, of course informed her that she had made Sith. Her final test, he said, was to be held the next day, and it was to be undertaken alone. Walking away, Aithne had to suppress a snort of derision. It wasn't as if Master Uthar had had a choice. Of course she had bested the others. There wasn't any competition left. She returned to her room, took out the robes she'd retrieved in the Shyrack Caves, and announced her intention to head to the Sith laundromat to get them cleaned. Carth volunteered to accompany her.

The laundry room was empty. For whatever reason, Sith preferred to have servants and slaves launder their clothing, or just went with dirty clothes. There was rather a superfluity of unhygienic Sith, Aithne had noticed.

Carth had something on his mind. His face was deeply lined with thought, and his gaze was clouded. Aithne hammered the stains out of the powerful, silky fabric of the robes and waited for him to bring up whatever was bothering him.

"Aithne…"he said finally.

"Carth," she replied quietly.

"Are you alright?" he asked. "You were…that man tortured you today. I…I watched you scream and I couldn't even…" he trailed off. His face was tense with shame and anger. Aithne sighed. She looked around. No one. She reached out with the Force. No one.

"I'm much better than I was yesterday, believe it or not," she said at last, keeping her voice low. "Carth, what do you think happened in the tomb of Tulak Hord today?"

"I think I was stupid. I knew Jorak Uln was hiding out around there somewhere- I should've been more careful, I should've known…and he tortured you. He almost killed you."

Aithne shook her head wearily. "What happened today is that I was blasé about a warning you had given me and jumped right into a trap like any greenhorn. Then Jorak gave me some sort of sick personality test. Every question I got right, he would torture Mekel. Every question I got wrong, he would torture me. 'Right' and 'wrong' here meaning just the opposite. Now, normally, this would just be a test to see if the Sith Jorak had captured had learned her lessons. But for me it was different. Carth, I could have given Jorak the answer he wanted to hear for every single question he asked today. So my dilemma was whether to take my chance and save Mekel, or deliberately cause him to be murdered by torture. And like I told Mekel today, for a while I honestly considered the latter. He would've deserved it." Aithne flipped the robe over and began beating the other side. "I could have killed him. But it would have hurt me more, in the long run, than the torture that now is little more than an unpleasant memory. Do you understand?"

Carth nodded. "I get it, but you shouldn't have been in that position in the first place. I could have-"

"Look. Shut up." Aithne interrupted. "Whatever happened in there was my fault, Carth, not yours." She wadded up the robe and tossed it into a washing machine. "If anything, you helped."

"And how is that?" Carth demanded. "'Cause from all I can see, I was useless in there today."

Aithne shook her head and started up the machine. "I don't know if I would've been able to resist getting Mekel back for the things I've seen him do if it hadn't been for you." She didn't look at him. "You made me want to do the right thing."

Carth regarded her. His eyes were desperate to believe her. "You know," he said, "I used to think that the Dark Side was a fancy name for something that I see every day. Corruption is everywhere. People are greedy and stupid and do horrible things. I'm starting to think that it's different for the Jedi, however. Like there's this evil watching them, waiting for its chance. I've especially seen it, here. You have so much courage and strength in you…yet, somehow, I have no trouble imagining it differently. I- I've seen it differently, Aithne. It's like the flip side of a coin."

"You don't know the half of it," Aithne muttered. She studied her hands in her lap. "My anger and arrogance are always waiting in the wings, ready to spring up. These past few days on Korriban- I've been _Dark_, flyboy. It's been hard to tell what's been an act and what's for real. I'm…I'm really good at this Sith stuff. It scares me, how easy it all is. But I don't like the person I've been here, Carth. Deceptive. Angry. Almost drunk with the power of it all. It started all the way back in Dreshdae. You remember. But it was worst yesterday. It all came to a head when I killed Lashowe yesterday evening. I didn't need to, but I did, but thank the Force something she said made me come to my senses. I ended up talking to Dustil about it, of all people." She laughed a little. "That's some kid you've got there, Carth. Brave. Smart. Good. Like his father. Better than me."

Carth was looking at her with fascination. "Why are you telling me all this?" he asked.

Aithne smiled bitterly. "You said you liked being in the loop," she said. "Well, welcome to the loop. Scary place, isn't it?"

He swung up beside her, staring at the opposite wall. "Not entirely," he said finally. "I- I knew you were having some difficulties here. But I'm glad you trust me enough to tell me. It's really been that bad?"

"Worse."

Carth frowned. "It's not just you," he said suddenly. "Bastila struggles, too. She's so…intense. I don't pretend to know much about the Force, but I know evil."

Aithne laughed. "Bastila? Seriously? Goody-two-saber, there-is-no-emotion, poster child Bastila going Sith? She'd never even slip up for a few days." _Like me_ went unsaid between them.

"I would hope not," he said. "But neither you nor Bastila are fully trained on how to handle your power. I'm just concerned at what might come. This was just a test run, you know."

Aithne shifted ever so slightly away from Carth, made uncomfortable by his too-accurate observations. "That's sweet," she said. "I didn't know you cared."

"Well that's not what I…" Carth stopped, flustered. Aithne looked over, surprised. She blinked. The man was actually blushing. "I mean- Aithne, I didn't like seeing you hurt today. I wouldn't want you hurt in the future. Either of you. I suppose finding the Star Maps is more important than your training. And your safety. I just hope there isn't a price to pay."

Aithne gripped his hand. "Me, too," she said quietly. Carth laced his fingers through hers, and Aithne added, "You're so confoundedly decent, flyboy. It's rather inspiring, despite the paranoia and occasional unfounded accusation. It…it really does help."

Carth stood suddenly. But he retained her hand. "I don't like the idea of you going into that tomb alone tomorrow," he said.

Aithne looked up at him. "I'd rather have you and Jolee there, too. But you're a terrible stealth op, and so is he. And Yuthura and Uthar won't let you just go with me. I'll manage."

"I don't doubt you can. Physically. But what's to stop you from going over?"

Aithne looked down. "I figure I've gotten my taste of the Dark Side these past few days," she said. "Can't say it's a taste I fancy, honestly. Part of life may be about killing, and survival, and competition. Anger is undoubtedly a part of my nature. But that's not all of life. It's not all that makes up the Force. And it isn't all of me. I don't like that part of me. And now that I've gotten to know it, you better believe I won't be taking it out tomorrow, whatever happens."

Carth searched her face, and Aithne gave him stare for stare. Finally, he seemed to be satisfied. "I believe you," he said. "Be careful tomorrow, though, okay?"

Aithne looked away, tracing a design with her finger on the top of the washer. "What? So now you care if I end up some tuk'ata's dinner or chopped up to bits by some Sith Master's lightsaber?"

"Yes," Carth said, dead serious.

That simple word made a response impossible. Aithne's cheeks heated up, and her stomach felt like it must be doing back-flips. Carth grinned. "Besides. It wouldn't be near as much fun saving the galaxy without you."

* * *

><p>Aithne woke up the next morning and dressed in her new robes. They were soft. They clung and draped perfectly. Moreover, they were filled with power. Looking in the mirror, Aithne grinned. She didn't look at all like a Sith. She tapped the double-bladed lightsaber on her hip, the crystal of which she had changed to green late last night. There would be no more pretense, no more lies. She'd talked to the <em>Ebon Hawk<em> crew and informed them that she would be joining them with the others that evening.

Carth and Jolee still slept. Better that she leave them that way, Aithne thought. Goodbyes and well wishes would just be awkward. Quietly, she slipped from the room.

She quickly found Uthar and Yuthura and the three of them made a silent journey to the tomb of Naga Sadow in the early morning light. Uthar let them in, and Aithne found herself in the place she'd been trying to reach since her arrival on Korriban. It was dark and dusty, as had been the other tombs she'd visited, with numerous cobwebs and nondescript dangerous animal droppings here and there, but a darkness ran through the heart of the place deeper than any she'd felt yet.

Uthar stopped in the entry passage, along with Yuthura. "We are now ready for your final test, young Sith," he said portentously. "You have earned the right to see if you shall become one of us."

"Well, that, and I've kind of eliminated all my competition," Aithne murmured provocatively.

Uthar chuckled. "Indeed you have," purred Yuthura. It was difficult to tell if this was in relation to Uthar's announcement or Aithne's comment.

Uthar bristled. "Is that a tone of mischief in your voice, dear Yuthura?" he asked in a honey sweet, poisonous tone. "You should know by now that no scheme is certain."

Yuthura's eyes glinted in the dim light. "As should you, my master," she retorted. "But I was only agreeing. Should we not get on with the test?"

Uthar eyed Aithne. "Yes, of course," he said. "We are in the sacred tomb of Naga Sadow, Addison Bettler, the one discovered by Darth Malak and Darth Revan years ago. You are to follow in their footsteps and reach the ancient Star Map that lies deep within. There you will find a lightsaber, amongst other things. The lightsaber is for you, your initiation present. Return to us once you have it, for you the test does not end there."

Aithne sighed. "Of course not."

"Be very cautious, here," Yuthura warned. "This tomb is like the others in this valley, and many of its old defenses remain active."

Aithne wondered how much of Yuthura's warning was affection for her friend, and how much of it was the Sith Master needing an ally to strike down a rival.

"Do you understand what I have told you?" Uthar was asking. "Are you ready to begin?"

"Ten minutes ago, Master," Aithne shot back.

"Good," Uthar smiled. "Yuthura and I will await your return."

* * *

><p>CARTH POV<p>

When Carth woke up Jolee was sitting in the chair in the corner, looking off into the distance. Carth looked around.

His stomach dropped. "She's gone, isn't she?" Jolee only nodded.

"Can you tell me anything?" Carth asked.

Jolee looked at him. "I feel that darkness surrounds her. She's frightened. But I think she's holding her own. All's well, for now."

Carth breathed a little easier, and gradually felt secure enough to complain. "She could have at least woke us up to say goodbye," he grumbled.

Jolee smiled. "She could have, could she? Sonny, you would have put her through hell before she could leave, and you know it."

Carth started to protest, then stopped. He looked away. "I hope she's being careful," was all he said.

* * *

><p>BASTILA POV<p>

Bastila was eating breakfast with Juhani, Mission, and Zaalbar aboard the _Ebon Hawk. _Suddenly a hot pain flashed through Bastila's mind. Bastila flinched, and her arm began to throb.

"What is it, Bastila?" asked Juhani curiously.

"Aithne," Bastila managed, eyes closed. "She's hurt."

"Where is she? How's she hurt?" Mission demanded, going pale.

"Her left arm's been wounded," Bastila told Mission, rubbing her own left arm, then focused. "She's in a dark place, close, dank…" her words seemed to come from far away. "She's in the tomb with the Star Map. Alone. Fighting."

/Will she be alright?/ Zaalbar wanted to know.

"I do not know, Zaalbar," was Bastila's only reply. _She'd better be, _she thought to herself. _I've gone through too much for her for her to collapse on me now._

* * *

><p>AITHNE POV<p>

Aithne lobbed the special ice grenade she had found past the terentateks at the acid pool. It froze over with a hiss, and Aithne winced, moving her arms and trying to loosen up.

A particularly nasty wave of pain surged through her left arm. There had been two young, strong, and bored terentateks in a chamber of the tomb. With a bunch of Mission's mines and a few stims, Aithne had managed to defeat them, but one of them had dealt her a glancing blow on the arm with a spiked tail. Not only had the tail torn her new robes, but it had also ripped quite an impressive gash in her left arm. She'd managed to heal the wound well enough to stop most of the bleeding, but terentatek injuries were difficult due to the nature of the creature, and she hadn't been able to heal herself completely. In fact, she rather suspected that there was something important she had missed- but right now the objective was to get the Star Map and get off Korriban, and Aithne didn't have time to nurse her injury.

She crossed over the frozen acid to the final chamber of the tomb of Naga Sadow. Removing the Star Map datapad from her pack, she approached the structure she had been trying to reach ever since her arrival on Korriban. The triangular column opened, and Aithne downloaded the map.

She perused the datapad and nearly growled in frustration. She had three new coordinates. Just three. A massive hole still remained right in the middle of her datapad map. Sighing resignedly, Aithne replaced the datapad and ambled over to a nearby Sith statue. The kneeling statue clutched an ornate lightsaber. Aithne activated it. The blade was blood red, the hilt was black leather, with ornate brown stitching forming evil letters upon it. Aithne deactivated the saber quickly. She turned to leave the chamber.

Uthar and Yuthura were waiting for her. Not at the entrance, as they'd planned, but on the frozen acid pool. Aithne took a quick catalogue of her physical condition. The stims she'd used earlier had worn off, leaving her exhausted down to her very bones. Her arm ached steadily, and it felt hotter than usual. At least it was her non-dominant arm, Aithne thought. Not that that would help much with a double bladed lightsaber. But she swallowed, and strode forward.

Uthar smiled as she joined them. "So you return to us with the lightsaber in hand, as I knew you would."

Yuthura nodded. "The Force has served you well."

Uthar continued. "You took a great risk in acquiring the artifact. You used your mind and your power, no peaceful meditation, no pacifism. Sometimes you must fight in order to achieve. This gives you your passion, this makes you stronger. This is what makes you superior. That is the lesson we teach with that part of the final test. Do you understand?"

Aithne smiled grimly. "What I need to, yes," she replied elusively.

Uthar didn't catch her meaning. "Good," he said. "The last part of your test will now commence. Here you will learn the lesson of competition. All life must compete in order to flourish. Such is the natural order of the universe. To stand still is to know death. One must always be moving forward. So it is the same among the Sith. Compete or die. Mercy is irrelevant." He grinned now unpleasantly, pausing for dramatic effect. "So it behooves you in this final test to strike down one you are familiar with, for no other reason than to prove you are superior and without mercy. Normally this would be against another student. You, however, get a special treat. You will fight Yuthura here…my own apprentice."

Yuthura grinned, activating her lightsaber. "You talk too much, old fool," she said.

Uthar paused, glancing at Aithne. "So…you know, do you? Well, it makes no difference. You have become too ambitious, Yuthura. It is time for you to die."

Yuthura laughed. "No. It is time for you to die, master. My pupil stands with me." She motioned for Aithne to join her.

Aithne remained where she was. Uthar smiled. "Sadly, Yuthura, it is you who are mistaken. Your pupil is more ambitious than you realize. Isn't that so, Addison?"

Aithne shook her head. Slowly, she put her new Sith lightsaber into her pack, withdrawing her own double-bladed one. She didn't activate it. "I hope the two of you realize that both of you have promised me basically the same position." She kept her eyes open as she tossed her pack to the side. "So it really comes down to which of you I like better, doesn't it?" She got into an offensive stance, ignoring her protesting arm, and smiled apologetically at Uthar. "Uthar, Yuthura's right. You do talk too much."

Yuthura laughed in delight. "Do you hear that, my master? That is the sound of a new leader rising to replace you."

Uthar's face hardened. "So the time has come, has it?" he asked. He activated his lightsaber, but the poison bug Aithne had placed under his bed had done its work, for his face suddenly drained of color. "Ugh! No! My strength leaves me!"

Yuthura sneered. "You are weak, Uthar, and the Force has abandoned you. We have made sure of it!" With a feral cry, she sprang upon her master. Activating her green lightsaber, Aithne followed suit. Uthar could hardly bring his saber up to defend between the two of them, but as Aithne dealt him the fatal blow, Uthar noted the color of her lightsaber, and his eyes drifted over to his erstwhile apprentice. He smiled in satisfaction. "You lose, dear Yuthura," he whispered. "Your pupil has betrayed you." And then he died.

Yuthura straightened, looking at Aithne with a fierce pride. "Uthar is finished, and a new order is brought to the Academy. Excellent." She glanced down at Aithne's still active saber, and gave a little smile. "Unfortunately, I don't really need an apprentice. Especially one as clever, treacherous, and powerful as you, Addison Bettler, or whatever your real name is."

Aithne shifted. "I figured that you would think that way," she said, a bit sadly. "That's why I thought I'd slow you down a bit before you could kill me. You should feel it right about…"

Yuthura's face suddenly drained of color, too. "Ugh! The pain!" she gasped. "I…why did you do this to me?"

Aithne stood back a bit, waiting. "You think I didn't know that you would think I was too big of a risk to keep around?" she demanded. "I'm sorry if I wanted to make killing me a little bit harder for you. Look. I'm done with the games, I'm done with the lies. I'm no Sith."

Yuthura glanced at Aithne's still active double saber again. "Damn you!" she cried, reactivating her own. "I…I will destroy you for this. You…you will never leave here alive!"

"Now, wait, Yuthura, I don't want to kill you either…" but the Twi'lek Sith master was upon her. Aithne blocked Yuthura's stroke. She was still stronger than Yuthura, despite her injury that was hurting more every second. Slowly, Aithne forced the other woman back, finally delivering a kick to the woman's stomach that caused her to back off.

Yuthura circled Aithne now, wary. Aithne had told her that she had had very little informal Jedi training. By the lightsaber Aithne held, and the fighting she was exhibiting, Yuthura knew that was not true. But nevertheless, she attacked again, and Aithne parried with a dizzying set of strokes calculated to set Yuthura off balance without the exertion of a great deal of strength on Aithne's part or the risk of hurting Yuthura. It worked. Aithne spotted an opportunity, and knocked the saber from Yuthura's grasp. It clattered to the ground, and the frozen acid began to sizzle as Aithne leveled her own saber at Yuthura's throat.

"Stop!" Yuthura cried. "I…I yield! You are…too strong for me. I was a fool to think otherwise. I am…at your mercy."

Aithne withdrew her blade a hair's breadth. "You're assuming I possess it, then?" The words were a challenge.

Yuthura smiled weakly. "I suppose I am. You're not what you said you were, in any case. I was right before, in the cantina. You're different."

Aithne spoke through her teeth, trying to hold her saber steady. "You could say that. It's true that I never told you my real name or purpose. Yuthura- my name is Aithne Morrigan. And I've got what I came for."

The words made the impression Aithne wanted them to. Yuthura blanched. Well, Aithne thought, a general death warrant certainly helped to create a fearsome reputation. "You're a Jedi," Yuthura said.

"Of a sort."

"Malak himself wants you personally dead."

"For some reason or other."

Yuthura laughed. "And you've been here, all this time. So. What happens now? Will you show me mercy? Will you…just let me leave?"

Aithne withdrew her saber from Yuthura's throat, deactivating it and lowering it slowly so the Sith would not guess how truly weak she was right now. "You know the risk I'd be taking," she said. "You could call down hundreds of Sith on me before nightfall. But we were friends. I wasn't pretending that I liked you, Yuthura. I didn't poison you because I wanted you dead. I poisoned you to weaken you, to give me time to get away. Why did you decide to kill me?"

Yuthura shrugged, looking away. "It felt like I had no choice. You reminded me too much of a time before I became a Sith. I…didn't want to think about that."

Aithne crossed her arms, staring Yuthura down. "Why not?" she demanded.

Yuthura fidgeted. "All the things I wanted to do, all the wrongs I wanted to right…I haven't done any of it. They just get farther and farther from my mind. All I've cared about is power…" she looked down at Uthar, and for the first time Aithne saw something like regret cross her face. "And myself. This isn't the person I was."

Aithne looked down at Uthar. Yuthura's lightsaber was still there on the frozen acid, burning a hole through it, and acid was seeping up, burning Uthar's corpse now. She looked back at Yuthura. "I know. That's why you're not there on the melting acid with Uthar. How about we get off that, by the way?" Grabbing her pack, she led Yuthura into the adjoining corridor, then stopped her again. "Yuthura. You can still be the person you were meant to be."

Yuthura gazed quizzically into Aithne's face. Finally she said, "I think…I think you're right. And it gives me peace. Maybe peace is what I need, after all. The Jedi tried to show me that. I don't know if I can ever go back to them…but I can't stay here." With the 'here', she gestured around the tomb, to Korriban and the Sith in general. She smiled weakly. "Thank you…thank you for showing me that." She bowed. "You have a destiny, Aithne Morrigan, and I wish you well on your way to it. May the Force be with you." She turned to go, then said back over her shoulder, "And I won't tell anyone."

Aithne smiled. "May the Force be with you, Yuthura. I know you'll do great things."

Yuthura left, and after a moment, Aithne followed.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:This chapter is kind of hard to write. I really like both Yuthura and Dustil. To be honest, if I went really crazy, I'd write the story so they both came along with Aithne. But I couldn't see the plot going the direction it needs to with Dustil in the middle of things, and furthermore I couldn't come up with how he'd get out with Aithne and the others without alerting every Sith on Korriban that it's not some random Jedi spy and her friends that are tearing things up, but Aithne Morrigan and Carth Onasi, presumably with Bastila Shan. Then there'd be dozens of ships after them and the whole thing would just get messy. **

**With Yuthura, I can't see that in the position she's in by the time Aithne's done with her, she'd be much of a help. Too fresh from the Darkest part of the Dark Side to be much use fighting the Sith, too desperate for peace to be much use fighting at all. **

**So adios, Yuthura. I really hope you didn't get vaporized on Dantooine. I do have Dustil set for one more appearance at the tail end of the story, though. So I'll comfort myself about _his_ loss with that.**

**Anyway, I hope you're enjoying my story. Up next things just start getting better and better, as the crew heads to Tatooine and work out a whole bunch of issues. But, of course, just when it starts looking like happily ever after for everyone I'll have to drop the drama brick again. That's how this works. **

**Leave a review!**

**May the Force be With You,**

**LMSharp**

** Ah well. Dustil's gone until the tail end of our story. We are over halfway done, by the way. In the next chapter, Aithne almost dies, and Carth makes a move. R&R! **


	25. En Route to Several Places

**Disclaimer: Knights of the Old Republic is a video game created by Bioware. The Star Wars universe belongs to George Lucas. I am not responsible in any way shape or form for their brilliant ideas. I'm just a fan telling a story about my own personal Revan. Thus: FAN- FICTION. Don't sue me.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Twenty-Five<p>

As Aithne stumbled up to the Sith Academy, she was halted by a female Sith guarding the entrance with two companions.

"You there! How is it that you are leaving Naga Sadow's tomb by yourself! You went in for your final test, didn't you? Where is Master Uthar?"

Aithne examined the woman. She was dressed in the uniform denoting a person who'd been accepted to the Academy, but wasn't yet a Sith in full. Looking into the young woman's face, Aithne realized she knew her.

She grimaced. "Ah, Leni. You made it in, I see. How's Thaddeus?"

Leni blinked. "Do I know—you're that woman from the cantina! Addison, wasn't it? I knew a woman had gone in for finals, but I never thought…" she recovered herself. "Thaddeus is dead. What are you doing by yourself?"

Aithne sighed. She read in the woman's aura the darkness of a recent murder. She'd thought that it wouldn't be long before Leni had figured out how Thaddeus had been holding her back. She was saddened to find this was the case. "Just let me pass. Master Uthar is dead. I killed him."

Leni took a step back. "What? You…but you aren't even a Sith yet! You're joking!"

Aithne shook her head. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" She opened her pack, and drew out the Sith lightsaber. "But no. I made Sith. I've got the lightsaber, I've peeped at the Star Map, and dealt with both your Sith Masters, in one way or another. Yes, Leni, I'm technically a graduated Sith. But I choose not to continue as one." She deliberately replaced the Sith lightsaber into her pack, feeling the way her entire left arm and shoulder had started to burn. She thought she was beginning to sweat with fever. She had a feeling she knew what she had forgotten, back in Naga Sadow with the terentatek.

"You…you're a spy!" Leni turned to her companions. "Quick! To arms!"

One of her companions ignited a lightsaber immediately, but the other hesitated. "But if the spy was able to kill Master Uthar…"

Leni rolled her eyes. "Don't be such a coward! I've met her before; she's not so tough! Kill her! Do it…"

But in that moment she and her companions were put into a Force Stasis. Their eyes locked on Aithne as she circled them, double green saber activated. She stood in front of Leni, trying not to gasp. That simple Force Stasis had taken much more out of her than usual. But when she spoke, her voice was strong.

"Leni. Don't be an idiot. You can't move now, but I know you can hear me. I don't want to kill you. I have no interest in reporting the position and methods of this Academy to the Jedi Council, even, although it is true that I could. But I'm also not interested in letting you kill me, no matter how much you think it would impress whoever takes over the Academy. Let me pass and I'll leave quietly. If you don't…" she shrugged. "I guess it's your funeral."

Taking a guard position, Aithne slowly let down the Force Stasis. Leni attacked. In one maneuver, Aithne cut the girl down. The others had no time to react before they joined her. An alarm rang out. Aithne brought her com-link up quickly.

"Carth! Jolee! Arm up! Melee weapons and lightsabers! We're gonna have to fight our way out and hide in Dreshdae!"

"Got it, beautiful," Carth's voice came back.

* * *

><p>CARTH POV<p>

Carth and Jolee grabbed their packs. Jolee equipped his lightsaber. Carth equipped melee weapons. It wasn't his favorite way to fight, but he was quite as competent with vibroblades as with blasters.

They rushed to the back door, Jolee incapacitating with the Force those that stood in their way. Aithne staggered in. She was paler than usual, but Carth didn't think much of it, as no less than five lightsaber-wielding Sith were headed for them, gunmen in tow.

What followed was a very tense battle to the door. Carth and Jolee dealt with Sith left and right. Aithne did what she could, but Carth began to notice when they passed into the main hall that what Aithne could do was much less than usual. Normally, Aithne would be at the forefront of a battle, taking on the toughest opponents with a beautiful grace and finesse. Now, though, she was sweating and breathing heavily, barely managing to stagger behind Carth and Jolee. And she was decidedly favoring her left arm.

Finally they got out of the Sith Academy. Jolee led them to the thick of the crowds in Dreshdae, and only began walking when he knew that they were truly just three in the multitude.

Carth caught Aithne just before she hit the ground just outside of the Czerka store.

"Hey, whoa, what's the issue?" he asked her gently.

"My arm," she rasped. "There was a terentatek. Back in the tomb. Forgot the blame thing was poisonous. I'll be fine." She tried to stand, but crumpled again. She was turning green.

"Get her out of the way," Jolee commanded suddenly. Carth carried Aithne to a little alcove where they wouldn't be seen or in the way of passersby. Aithne only muttered a few weak protests, and Carth's heart started beating a little faster. She was really hurt. He knelt, the Jedi woman still in his arms, and Jolee came over.

"Sit still for a moment, lass," he commanded. He looked her over head to toe with sharp eyes, finally focusing on the three rips in her left sleeve, wide and far apart. There was very little blood around the area. It didn't look serious. "This is it?"

Aithne barely nodded. "Just a scratch, right? I'll be fine." Her face was turning gray now.

Jolee tore open Aithne's sleeve, careful not to get cloth fibers in the wound. Three deep, wide gashes marred her finely boned forearm. The gashes weren't bleeding, or cauterized like lightsaber wounds. But they were edged in a vivid greenish yellow, and oozing a sickly white pus.

"Oh, Aithne," Carth said.

"It's not too pretty, right?" she managed. Her voice seemed to come from a long way away. "But there were two of them…"

Jolee's right hand lit up blue. His left grasped Carth's shoulder as Aithne's eyes went out of focus. "Call her," he ordered. "You keep her here, sonny." He placed his right hand on Aithne's arm, and his left over her heart, leaning over her and closing his eyes.

Carth touched Aithne's chin. Panic was squeezing his heart with iron coils. "Aithne," he said urgently. "Beautiful. Look at me. Jolee's trying to get the poison out, but you've got to work, too. Work with me, beautiful."

Aithne's head lolled to one side. Carth turned it back. "No way, Aithne. Don't you dare go and die on me."

At the word _dare_, Aithne's eyelashes fluttered. Jolee said, "Yes, keep going!"

Looking down, Carth saw blood on Jolee's right hand, along with a dark green venom flowing slowly out of the wound.

"C'mon, beautiful," he urged Aithne. "You're not going to let something like this beat you, are you?"

"Carth?" Aithne murmured. Her eyelashes fluttered again, then opened. Straight away her golden brown eyes focused on Carth's face, and color began returning to her cheeks.

"Hello, beautiful," Carth said.

The last bit of skin flowed over Aithne's wound, and she looked down at her arm, and flexed it. Carth helped her to sit.

Jolee was shaking, a little. Aithne gripped his shoulder. "Old man, you're the best Healer I've ever seen," she told him roughly. She hugged him tightly. "You saved my life. Thanks."

Jolee hugged her back. "I'm just glad you got to us in time," he said.

Aithne turned to Carth then, glaring at him. "What was all _that_, flyboy? You didn't think Jolee couldn't handle it, did you?"

Carth was suddenly furious. "Well if you hadn't been stupid enough to leave the tombs without first making sure you weren't poisoned, he wouldn't have had to. Damn it, Aithne!" He grabbed her shoulders. All the anxiety that had built up in Carth's chest for her was still desperate for release.

Aithne tossed her head. "There was kind of a few dozen Sith to deal with, Carth. They had me under a bit of a time constraint. I'm _fine_ now."

She was. She fairly glowed with health, though she still sat half-cradled in his arms. She was still glaring at him, beautiful, alive, and contrary.

Carth pulled her to him, rather roughly, actually, and kissed her.

* * *

><p>AITHNE POV<p>

Aithne was outright shocked for a moment. She froze. But Carth's arms were strong around her, and his lips were warm against hers, and as liquid electricity flowed through her, Aithne found herself responding quite beyond what was wise or even proper in a Dreshdae alley in front of Jolee Bindo.

When they parted, Carth was grinning broadly. Aithne looked down, and her hair tumbled into her face, hiding her flaming cheeks. She had thrown herself into that kiss with everything she was! _What must he think of me?_ She wondered, quite forgetting the ardor with which Carth had initiated. A strong hand forced her chin up.

"No," Carth said softly. "Don't hide. Don't you dare hide." And he kissed her again, softly and sweetly.

Aithne began to smile, too, and Carth helped her to her feet. "We should meet up with the others," he said.

"If you're quite finished here," Jolee said mildly. Carth grinned. Aithne blushed. And hand in hand, Carth and Aithne led the way back to the _Ebon Hawk_.

Bastila, Mission, and Zaalbar were waiting on the ramp.

"I felt you coming," Bastila announced. "Is she alright?" she asked Carth. Aithne knew she referred to the terentatek wound. Bastila would have felt it over their bond.

"I'm right here Bas, and I'm fine," Aithne said tolerantly, tossing Bastila the Star Map datapad. "Jolee took care of it. He saved my life."

Zaalbar and Mission went up to Jolee. /Thank you for saving Aithne Morrigan,/ Zaalbar said. /You have my gratitude, Jolee Bindo./

"Mine, too," said Mission softly, giving the old man her hand.

"Oh, less of it," Jolee said, touched despite his gruff words. "It wasn't all me. The lass did a great deal of coming back herself, though I think Carth here helped some."

"I imagine he did," Bastila said sharply, eyeing Carth and Aithne's still linked hands. "But we should all get off of this planet as soon as possible. The Sith will not remain in confusion for long."

"Sensed that too, did you?" Aithne said, annoyed.

"Oh, I've sensed a _great deal_ since your absence, Padawan," Bastila said. "We'll talk about it later."

Aithne glared at Bastila. Who did the girl think she was, anyway? But she followed the group inside the ship, closing the entryway behind her

"Juhani and Canderous got here a while ago with supplies," Mission said cheerfully to Aithne. "We ought to be ready to leave any time."

Aithne smiled at the teenager. "It's good to see you, Mish. Big Z." Looking at Bastila, she relented. "Okay, fine. Even you, Bastila, though I'm sure you're going to tongue lash me to death about my Dark Side escapades on Korriban the minute you get the chance."

She turned to Carth. "Carth, set a course for Tatooine. We're overdue for an appointment with one Griff Vao, and there's a Star Map there, too."

Mission squealed and hugged Aithne. Carth grinned. "Roger that, Aithne. Of course, I'll need my copilot to take off."

"Of course you will," Aithne said blandly. "Padawan Shan, I'm afraid our conversation will just have to wait. The captain needs you for take-off. When will you be able to release her, captain?"

Carth gave a mock grimace. "Oh, there's so much to do! Probably not for several hours, at least. If it's agreeable to you, Padawan Shan? We really ought to be going."

Aithne shot Carth a grateful smile, and he winked at her. Bastila was incoherent for several seconds. "You two! I swear I'll…Force!"

"Bastila Shan! Is that any way to talk?" Aithne scolded. "Anger leads to the Dark Side, you know."

Mission, Jolee, and Zaalbar were laughing. Bastila's face turned a very interesting shade of puce. But finally she took a deep breath, and calmed. "Fine," she managed ungraciously. "We'll see you later."

"I'll be looking forward to it," Aithne said, giving Bastila a little finger wave as Carth ushered the irate Sentinel from the room.

"You realize you just made your own life a lot harder, don't you?" Jolee asked, amused.

"I suppose I'll have to hear her lecture eventually," Aithne sighed, "But meanwhile, it's just so much _fun _to agitate her. I owe Carth one."

"What does she want to lecture you about, though?" Mission wanted to know. "I mean, me and Big Z have been hearing things…" her face darkened, and Aithne imagined what she'd heard.

She grabbed Mission's hand and led her to the table, sitting down across from her. "I imagine she wants to lecture me about my Dark Side escapades on Korriban, like I said," she said quietly.

"Did you help Carth?"

Aithne brightened. "Yes we did. We found his son, convinced him to turn his back on the Sith, and started him and Carth back on the road to a healthy relationship."

"Great!" Mission said. "And you got the Star Map…" her face clouded again. "Aithne, what all did you do?"

Aithne closed her eyes against the memories. But no, she needed to remember. She needed to make sure she never went to the Dark Side again. So she opened her mind to Bastila, who even now was probing, and she spoke to Mission and Zaalbar.

"I nearly tortured a man to death in Dreshdae. Carth shot him and stopped me. I betrayed and betrayed again Sith Masters who wanted to use me for power struggles. I tortured a Mandalorian to death and killed the interrogator that would have claimed the credit for breaking him. I sent one of my competitors to his death by trickery, and tricked another one into trusting me and killed her."

Throughout this frank recital, Mission's face had grown graver and graver. She looked at Aithne now, and it was as if she were seeing her in a whole new light. She began to move away. But Zaalbar was looking at her shrewdly.

/Aithne,/ said Zaalbar. /What happened after you killed this woman?/

"After that, Big Z, I realized what I had done. In my compassion for the lives the Sith had twisted and harmed, in my quest to stop them, I had allowed anger to warp my mind. In my acting the part of the Sith, I had begun to be one of them. I realized I didn't like who I was becoming. So I convinced another one of my competitors to leave the Sith for the Jedi. I underwent torture to spare the life of a murderer. And I turned the second-highest ranking Sith Master at that Academy back to the Light Side. I made up my mind never to walk the Dark path again." Aithne shrugged. "All the power is intoxicating, but in the end it only burns you out and leaves you an empty shell of yourself, broken and evil. And I'll never go there."

"Never?" Mission asked, eyes measuring Aithne.

"Never." Aithne said, and the words were a promise. Mission smiled hesitantly.

/I'm proud of you, Aithne Morrigan,/ Zaalbar said solemnly. /You have learned the hard way the lesson that must be learned. I am convinced that because of this experience, you will be wiser and greater than before./

Aithne smiled up at Zaalbar. /Your confidence honors me/ she told him in Shyriiwook.

The _Ebon Hawk_ began to quiver, and Aithne and the others went to their places for the launch.

* * *

><p>BASTILA POV<p>

Bastila had realized as early as Taris that Carth Onasi might prove to be problematic. She liked Carth. She was glad that he had survived the _Endar Spire_ crash, but not for the first time Bastila thought how much more _convenient_ it would have been if someone a little less intelligent and far less attractive to Aithne had survived instead.

The woman would have had her doubts in any case. She would have been a challenge to control, even aside from the fact that Bastila didn't really want to control her, anyway. But with Carth in the equation, observing all the same things Aithne herself had observed, and refusing to keep quiet about them, and…oh it was becoming increasingly impossible to do the task Bastila had been assigned by the Jedi Council.

Most of it was Aithne's fault. The woman was headstrong, rebellious, and simply refused to take the Order and its tenets seriously. Bastila would talk to her about that later, and how it had nearly led to disaster on the planet they had just left, but Carth wasn't helping. Bastila decided she would have to talk to him, too.

"Carth Onasi, you do realize that Aithne Morrigan is a Jedi, do you not?" she said finally.

Carth frowned. "Yes, Bastila, I know that she's a Jedi," he said.

"Whatever your feelings for her might be, you cannot simply act upon them as you might have done before she became a Jedi!"

Carth flipped a switch and steered the _Hawk_ a little to the right.

"The Jedi have _rules_ about attachment, Carth!"

"Look, Bastila," Carth said at last. "I guess you've been picking up brain frequencies from Aithne or something. I might point out that listening in qualifies as eavesdropping and should be beneath you. Now. I respect the Order, but I also know that Aithne never wanted to be a Jedi. Hell, everyone on the _Endar Spire_ knew that she never even wanted to be there." He looked sideways at Bastila. "I don't know what you want with her. But you can't just keep manipulating her and expect her to follow all of your rules." He paused. "If it comes down to a contest of wills, you'll lose," he added in a low voice.

Bastila shifted in her seat and spun a dial. "This- this is not just about me," she said. _Why _couldn't Carth Onasi have been a stupid man? "I care about her, Carth. She has a great destiny! If she's mooning over you the entire time, the weight of it all could crush her."

Carth's jaw was set. "Aithne's professional enough to keep going, whatever happens or _doesn't happen_ between us. Honestly, it's none of your business." he said.

Bastila persisted. "Carth, on Korriban she was distracted, distraught. On your behalf! Have you even considered that she might not have had such difficulties with the Dark Side, for however brief a time, if she hadn't been trying so earnestly to be a Sith to recover _your_ son!"

"That's out of line!" Carth said. The tone was just sharp enough to cause Bastila to backtrack.

"I… I apologize," she managed. "I just…I just want what's best for her. She's the galaxy's best hope."

"Yes," Carth said. "She is the galaxy's best hope. She is. Not you. Has it ever occurred to you that Aithne might want to make her own decisions? That her decisions might actually be good ones? Bastila, Aithne made mistakes on Korriban. But I saw her…I saw her tortured before she'd allow a murderer to die, too. Just maybe, Bastila, Aithne's life is _her_ business. Maybe she wants me to be a part of it." He smiled. "Maybe I'm okay with that."

Bastila studied Carth's face as he punched the buttons to prepare the _Hawk_ for the jump to hyperspace. It occurred to her that this was a much healthier man than the one she'd been acquainted with on the _Spire_, and once again she felt a wave of confusion pass over her regarding Aithne, her motives, and her actions pass over her. "You've changed, Carth Onasi," Bastila observed finally. "Time was once that you'd have died before you trusted Aithne Morrigan. Or anyone. Hmm." And Bastila fell silent, thinking.

A few hours later, Aithne turned up in the cockpit. "Alright, Bastila, I'm ready to be scolded."

Bastila pressed her lips together. Aithne's thoughts since she'd boarded the _Hawk _from Korriban had showed a true realization and repentance of her Dark actions. The only thing there was for Bastila to scold Aithne about was the one thing that she already knew Aithne wouldn't listen to. And Carth had clearly demonstrated he wouldn't support any interference. Calculating her options, Bastila determined that the only thing lecturing Aithne would accomplish at this point was alienation. And that was the last thing she wanted. "Actually," she said, "I cannot think of anything in particular I wish to speak with you about." She nodded with dignity at Carth.

Aithne's eyes darted from Bastila to the pilot. "Carth? What in the galaxy have you done to her?" she demanded. "Bastila? You sure there's nothing you want to talk to me about?"

"No," Bastila said firmly.

"Flyboy…you broke Bastila!" Aithne exclaimed.

Carth laughed. "You're welcome," he said.

This was irritating, Bastila thought, to say the least. But what happened next utterly floored her. Aithne flew at Carth and kissed him full on the mouth. Carth looked as surprised as Bastila, and rather pleased, but Aithne withdrew immediately, and looked at Bastila. Bastila stared out at the whiteness of hyperspace, determinedly keeping quiet.

"Nothing?" Aithne asked from her perch on the pilot's lap. Carth laughed again, and Aithne stood and bowed to him. "Captain Onasi, I trust you can spare your co-pilot?"

Carth threw his hands up in the air helplessly. "She's all yours," he said.

Aithne nodded. "Thank you." At that, she crossed to Bastila's seat, seized her arm, pulled her up, and dragged her down the corridor to the conference room.

"Aithne, I am perfectly capable of walking," Bastila protested.

Aithne let her go, glaring at her indignantly. "Ok. What gives?" she demanded. "Aren't you going to remind me of the dangers of the Dark Side? I showed you all my memories from Korriban. Heck, I threw them into your brain! I kissed Carth! Don't you care?"

Bastila crossed her arms. "What would you like me to say, Aithne?" she demanded. "Would anything I might say change your mind about pursuing Carth Onasi?"

Aithne considered. "Probably not," she admitted sheepishly.

"And your aura and state of mind clearly denotes that your experience on Korriban changed you for the better. I very much doubt you'll dabble in the Dark Side again. So what have I to say?" Bastila waited, annoyed.

Amazingly, Aithne actually looked hurt. She grabbed Bastila's shoulders, "C'mon, Bastila," she pleaded. "You can't just stop lecturing me because I don't listen! You lecture, I make faces! It's how we work! I'm sure it's making me better, really."

"Why do you really want me to lecture you, Aithne?" Bastila sighed wearily.

Aithne dropped her hand. "Because when I opened my mind to give you those memories, I felt across the connection and you seemed upset. A Force bond is all well and good, but when you rant I get a better idea of what you're thinking and feeling. And I want to know."

And there it was! Bastila wondered how it was possible for one woman to be so infuriating and so admirable all at the same time. "There is one thing I would like to ask you," she admitted. "If you'll permit it."

"Thank you!" Aithne said dramatically. "_Please_ be pompous and self-righteous and self-controlled, Bas! I don't know what I'd do if you weren't! Go ahead and ask. Whatever you want."

Bastila closed her eyes. There it was again. "I just cannot understand you!" she said finally, turning away and beginning to pace. "By all rights you should have fallen on Korriban, with the way you behave! You completely ignore the tenets of the Jedi Order. You lose your temper right and left. You pursue, rather than avoid attachment. And yet you continue to walk in the Light!" She rounded on Aithne. "How do you do it? How do you stay so secure in yourself? For me it has always been a constant battle!"

Aithne was staring at her, eyes wide and mouth open, completely surprised. She shook her head finally. "Bastila, I don't know," she said. "Back there on Korriban I just…I couldn't stay in Darkness, is all. I just couldn't." She grabbed Bastila's shoulders again, deadly serious. "But it calls to me. Always."

Bastila laughed bitterly. "Strangely, that's a relief to hear. I've never found the Jedi path an easy one to walk, and it's good to know I'm not alone. I've always struggled for control over my passions. I've always been too quick to anger, too quick to get involved. My instructors constantly berated me for it. I've often dreamed that I might be able to confront Darth Malak myself," she confessed. "I dream I can use all the power I have to kill him and stop all the death and destruction. I just think about all the evil that the Sith have caused and I…I get so furious. Yet we are told that these feelings are the path to the Dark Side."

"Shhh," Aithne said lowly. "Shhh. Bastila. Look at me."

Bastila looked up at the older woman, and shook. Aithne looked at her with pity and compassion. "Bastila, I had no idea. Why didn't you tell me you were struggling with this? I know you were supposed to help me, but you know I'm here to help you, too, when you need it, don't you?" She sighed. "They're children, Bastila," she said softly. "I learned that on Korriban. The young soldiers, the bulk of the Sith war effort, are nothing but misguided children. You've nothing to fear from them. But your anger…

"I know it well. That's the flip side of your compassion, a very Jedi trait, I might add. But if you feed it, and indulge it?" Aithne shook her head, and the images of young Sith on Korriban flooded Bastila's mind, along with an overwhelming wave of regret. "Of itself, your anger is not wrong. But if you let it control you it will twist you and corrupt you, and you will fall. But don't suppress it, Bastila."

Bastila shook her head, confused. "Would I become the very evil I want to destroy if I used my power to eradicate Malak?" she asked Aithne. "The very idea that I could become that evil; I just can't fathom it! It just doesn't seem possible. How could I?" Abruptly, though, Bastila remembered who she was talking to, and she shivered. "Why am I even asking you this?" she murmured. "The Jedi Teachings are clear. Who am I to question them?"

Aithne looked at Bastila meaningfully. "Human," she said simply.

Bastila shook Aithne off. "These are dangerous thoughts," she said. "The indulgence of a vain mind. Please, forget I ever mentioned this." And she strode off. Perhaps meditation would clear her mind.

* * *

><p>AITHNE POV<p>

Aithne stood in the conference room alone for a long time, thinking. She'd misjudged Bastila badly. There was much more to the girl than she'd given her credit for, and for the first time, Aithne was a little worried about what this mission and their cooperation was doing to the younger Jedi. She went to the cockpit, halfway hoping to find Bastila again, but she wasn't there.

"What _did_ you say to her?" Aithne asked Carth.

"Basically? I told her to mind her own business and that you were well able to take care of yourself," Carth said, without taking his eyes from the display.

Aithne swung herself into the co-pilot's seat. "Thanks for that," she said, "but I think we've upset the delicate balance that is Bastila Shan."

"How so?"

"Apparently, she's _not_ the perfect Jedi princess," Aithne informed Carth. "Never has been. The girl has fantasies about going…well…I guess Canderous…on Darth Malak. She's angry and scared and struggling. Seeing me get along without her precious precepts…well, it's shaken her up."

"Good," Carth retorted. "She still has a lot to learn, key to the war effort or not."

"Yes, but don't be harsh with her. She's been fed Order nonsense her whole life. She won't learn wisdom in a day," Aithne said.

The right side of Carth's mouth quirked up. "I never thought I'd see the day where you were arguing for Bastila Shan."

Aithne grinned. "Believe me, I'm just as surprised as you are." The two of them fell into a companionable silence. Carth broke it first.

"I don't regret it," he said, carefully not looking at her.

Aithne didn't pretend to misunderstand him. "Kissing me?"

"Yes. I don't regret it."

To tell the truth, she had been a little worried about that. Aithne nodded. "What are you thinking about?" she asked.

Carth gave a little sad half smile. "You. Me. My wife. Dustil."

"What about them?" Aithne wanted to know.

"I've been forgetting her face lately," Carth confessed. "I can remember things about her…things she did. The way she smiled, what her hair smelled like, our last fight…just not her face. I try to hold it in my head, but it's gone. Is that strange?" He looked awkwardly at Aithne. "Maybe I shouldn't be talking to you about this.

Aithne looked at her hands. She knew exactly what this meant. Carth was trying to move on and trying not to at the same time. "You remember the important things, Carth," she said quietly. "And you know you can talk to me about anything."

Carth looked away, annoyed. "But I should be able to remember her face!" he said. "It's frustrating! I feel like I'm losing her." He shot Aithne a worried glance, and Aithne smiled at him ironically. _Yes, it's me. Yes, I'm still here. Yes, I'm the woman you kissed three times today. _"I, uh…it must look really strange for me to be obsessing like this, still. You must think I'm incredibly stupid," he said.

Aithne shook her head. "No," she said firmly. "I don't think you're stupid. I think you're healing. I don't think your wife would want you to keep fighting it, to keep torturing yourself."

She stuck to the simple truth, trying to keep her words as devoid of self-interest as she could, considering. Whether or not Carth decided to try anything with her, it was time and past he healed and moved on.

Carth however, grimaced. "I suppose you're probably right," he said. "But I have to do it anyway. The only thing that's kept me going after she died has been the need to find Saul and kill him. It's better to think about that…than anything else," he said, looking at Aithne apologetically. Aithne bit her lip and nodded, getting his point. Carth hurried on. "Look, if I can do that, maybe I can let her go. Let it all go. If we encounter Saul…if we ever have the chance, promise me that I will be the one to kill him. I have to settle this. I need to."

Aithne heard the Dark Side in his tone, heard the anger and hatred, and was suddenly annoyed. "Carth," she said. "How do you think the ones who survived and weren't soldiers settled it? They _forgave_. They _moved_. They lived and moved on! That's the way it's supposed to work, Carth! Revenge won't settle anything, and deep down, I think you know that."

But Carth's jaw had set, and Aithne knew that calling him out had been the wrong route in this instance. "Whether it does or not," he said. "That's the way it has to be. Because Aithne? I am a soldier, and Saul did betray me. I…guess there's no need to discuss it until something happens."

Aithne crossed her arms, rising. "I guess not," she said flatly. "Or much else, either."

And turning on her heel, she left, cursing herself inside her head as she left the cockpit because she knew she wasn't just walking out. He'd kissed her and didn't regret it, so as stupid as trying anything with Carth was, she knew she'd be back.

But she managed to stay away for several days. She spent hours playing Pazaak with Mission, and talking with Jolee and Canderous. Bastila was avoiding her, and Juhani never spoke unless spoken to.

Carth was not avoiding her. In fact, he sometimes sought her out. But Aithne never spoke to him for more than a few seconds, and never alone. She knew it was unreasonable. He was hurting and healing and probably couldn't help holding onto the grudge he'd held for years, even if he wanted to move on with her. But if he couldn't help that, Aithne couldn't help being bothered by it, either. She'd forgive him. Eventually.

She asked Jolee about his wife one day. He wouldn't tell her anything, but he did imply that he'd gone to Kashyyyk to forget bad memories he'd had relating to her. "Let me ask you this:" he said. "Have you ever been in love? Truly in love, I mean, and not simple infatuation."

Aithne hesitated, then finally answered, "Ask me again in a couple of months."

Jolee smiled a bit, then nodded. "The pilot, is it? Well, let me tell you this. You're still at the beginning of your life, Aithne. There will be men…perhaps many men in your life, but if you're fortunate you'll find love once. The Jedi, with their damnable sense of over-caution, would tell you love is something to avoid. Thankfully, anyone who's even partially alive knows that's not true."

Aithne seized on this. Mockingly, she asked, "But aren't you worried about the Dark Side?"

Jolee laughed a little, and shook his head. "Love doesn't lead to the Dark Side," he said firmly. "Passion can lead to rage and fear, and can be controlled….but passion is not the same thing as love. Controlling your passions while being in love…that's what they should teach you to beware. But love, itself, will save you…not condemn you." He looked at Aithne suddenly, and grinned self-mockingly. "Ah, but listen to me go on as if I had all the answers. What do I know of love anymore? I'm just a lonely old man who's not even a Jedi."

Aithne looked back at him, unperturbed. "But you're making the most sense I've heard since I got into this mess," she said softly. "I want to hear what you have to say."

"You do, do you?" demanded Jolee. "I wouldn't listen to closely…I'm no authority on anything. I just think that the greatest things in life shouldn't be avoided because they come with a few complications. Love causes pain, certainly. Inevitably love is going to lead to as much sorrow and regret as it does joy. I suppose there are perfect, eternal loves out there…but I haven't seen one. How you deal with the bad part of love is what determines your character, what determines the Dark Side's hold over you."

"Do you think love can ever work?" Aithne asked, thinking of Carth.

Jolee considered. "I suppose it could," he conceded. "It would take a strong person to make that kind of commitment I think. Someone with a great sense of self." He chuckled, looking Aithne up and down. "Hm. Maybe you and Carth could work out. You're both the most stubborn kids I've had the misfortune to see. I'll tell you one thing, though." And his face grew grave. "Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you and the one you love simply aren't meant to be together. The trick is to know when that is, to know when it's time to fight, and when it's time to part ways." He seemed to realize he'd said too much, then, because he snorted. "Hmph. There I go waxing philosophical again. Somebody blast me already! Let's get going before I start talking in riddles, dammit!"

Aithne could see that it was no use talking to Jolee further that day, so she left.

The day before they were due to arrive on Tatooine, Canderous told her about Revan. This was of particular interest to Aithne, due to her dreams and Master Zhar's observance of her own resemblance to the savior-turned-villain of the Republic.

"Revan was a genius on the field," Canderous said admiringly. "She abandoned worlds of their defenders so that others would be to fortified to strike, and was willing to make sacrifices in order to advance goals."

Aithne was immediately reminded of the unanswered question in the Shadowlands of Korriban, and shuddered. "And in the end," Canderous said quietly. "Revan proved too much for us. The Sith had gone-retreated into their empire. They sealed themselves off from the rest of the galaxy. We thought it'd be centuries before they'd come back." His craggy face assumed a thoughtful expression for a moment. "It's amazing that they could rebuild their fleet so fast," he said. "But at the time, it looked like the galaxy was in our grasp. I still remember that final battle in the skies above Malachor V. The two fleets filling the space around it…outshining the stars!"

"What happened in the battle?" Aithne asked.

Canderous looked at Aithne, amused. "It was not your ships or your men or your vaunted 'fight for freedom' that won this, the final battle of the war. It was by the actions of one person, the Jedi Revan, that you prevailed. Her strategies and tactics defeated the best of us. Even Mandalore himself was taken aback by the ferocity, the tenacity, and the subtlety of her plans. Revan fought us to a standstill and then began pushing back. We didn't really have a chance."

"Why didn't you retreat?" Aithne asked, frankly astonished.

Canderous gave a little smile, one of the very few Aithne could ever recall seeing on his face. "It was what we had wanted all along, in a way. We wanted to fight the best in a battle that would be remembered for centuries. And we did. Revan won. I don't hold a grudge against Revan, and neither do any of my people. It was the greatest moment of my life to be in that battle. If she'd been a Mandalorian, nothing in the galaxy would've stopped us. But wishing for the past to be different is useless. Better to look to the future. As we should now. We'll talk more later, I think."

Aithne smiled. "Good," was her only reply.

It was late, and so Aithne went to her dormitory, thinking of Revan, and how frightening it was to identify with her so strongly, to be such a small person, with so much weight upon her shoulders.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yeah, well. Carth's an idiot, and Aithne's not perfect enough to forgive him and work with him through everything. Good thing, too, that she's temperamental and sometimes whiny and sometimes afraid. I like her better that way. I hate the transit chapters. In the next chapter, Aithne forgives Carth for being a grudge-holding space-brain, and someone has a birthday.**

**LMSharp**

**P.S. I appreciate your input! **


	26. Family and Friends

**Disclaimer: Yada yada yada blah blah blah Don't own KotOR or Revan or Carth or…anything really.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Twenty-Six<p>

_Sand swirled around me as the sandstorm raged outside the cave. It took all my willpower not to scratch my various gritty crevices even with Malak standing right next to me. Oh, I hated Tatooine. I decided that when I had conquered the galaxy, I would send enemies of state to spend a couple of decades here. I smiled just thinking about grumpy old men previously important in the Republic slaving under the suns and trying to get the sand out of their underclothes. But alas, I had not come here to fantasize. I stepped forward and activated the Star Map, memorizing it, cursing quietly as I realized I was still missing two or three coordinates. And there was that mental touch again!_

_I turned to my lamentably dim apprentice. "Malak, has anyone been following us?"_

_Malak looked around. "I don't see anyone, Master," he said._

"_Or sense them? Do you sense them?"_

_Malak shook his head, and a calculating look came into his eyes. I could just see him thinking that I was cracking up, that this was the time to make his challenge. I smiled drolly. _

"_Oh, just try it," I murmured, my hand twitching towards my lightsaber. "Please, anytime."_

_Malak's eyes widened, and he took a step back. I sighed, disappointed. I chuckled. "You always did lack gumption, Alak," I said wearily, turning away. "Come. Let's go."_

* * *

><p>CARTH POV<p>

Carth woke up early the day he'd scheduled the ship to land on Tatooine. He swung by the living area to grab breakfast before he brought the _Hawk_ out of hyperspace and landed.

Mission was there at the table, staring at her hands. Carth took a double take, and slowed. She wasn't playing Pazaak with anyone. She wasn't watching holovids with Teethree. She wasn't off practicing her aim with Canderous or her melee fighting with Aithne, Jolee, and Juhani. She wasn't even reading the half-library she'd wheedled off Master Dorak the last time they'd all been on Dantooine. Mission was sitting by herself, looking blank and forlorn.

Carth took his tray and sat across from her. "Mission? Is something wrong?"

She looked up, and her eyes were dead. "I'm fifteen today," she said flatly. "Griff told me that this was my birthday, anyway. Last year, the Beks made a cake and gave me my vibroblade…"

Carth understood immediately. It was like his own first birthday after Telos. Mission knew that she was supposed to be happy, but all she could think of was her last birthday, and all that she had lost since.

Carth dropped his fork. "Well." He managed. "I would say 'Happy Birthday', but that about kills it, doesn't it?"

"Just about," Mission agreed with a self-mocking smile.

The bitter expression didn't fit on Mission's normally cheerful face, and Carth frowned. He'd have to do something about that. "You know what?" he said, standing and taking his still full breakfast tray. There were more important things to do than eat breakfast now. "No." He shook his finger at Mission thoughtfully. "No."

* * *

><p>AITHNE POV<p>

"Prepare for landing on Tatooine," came Carth's voice over the com. "Aithne Morrigan, report to the cockpit."

Aithne seriously considered not going. She'd had another one of those annoying Revan Star Map dreams, and they always put her in a foul temper. But in the end she stomped up to the cockpit anyway.

She stood next to Carth's chair and braced herself as the ship jolted out of hyperspace. "I was meditating, Carth," she informed him, readjusting herself and crossing her arms. "What is it?"

Carth glanced up at her and grinned. "You're not scaring me, gorgeous," he told her. "However irritated you are, that scowl is just cute." Aithne opened her mouth to retort, but Carth stopped her. "It's Mission's birthday," he said.

Aithne's mouth shut abruptly, and she relaxed. "Oh," she said.

"We have to do something," Carth said, bringing the _Hawk_ into orbit around Tatooine.

"Obviously," Aithne said, rolling her eyes. "Hmmm. Ok. You keep her here when we land. I'll go with Zaalbar and Bastila and pick up a few things for her in Anchorhead. Meet us with the others in the cantina at seven. This deserves a party. It's not every day a girl turns fifteen."

"She's kind of upset about Taris," Carth warned.

"Of course she is," Aithne said. "That's all the more reason to celebrate. Today of all days, Mission needs to know we love and appreciate her." She gave Carth an appreciative glance. "Thanks for letting me know."

Carth took one hand off the controls for a moment and handed Aithne a few credits. "Hey, get her something from me, will you?"

Aithne pocketed the money. "I will," she promised. "And it's really sweet of you to think of it."

"Hey, I love the kid, too," Carth said. Aithne closed her eyes a moment, shrugging her metaphorical shoulders, then she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

"I had another Revan-dream last night," she told him.

"Another vision, you mean?" said Bastila, walking in as Carth keyed in a message to Tatooine requesting landing. "I got it as well."

Aithne laughed mirthlessly. "Sure you did. She wanted to kill you, and after she couldn't find you, she almost killed Malak." Aithne looked up at Bastila, and figured she'd said something wrong.

Bastila had gone chalk white, and her eyes were round. "You guessed this from Revan's words to Malak?" she asked shakily.

Aithne shifted. "Well, if I were Revan," Bastila flinched, Aithne continued cautiously, "I'd want to kill an eavesdropper, too. What I don't get is why Revan sensed…us…and Malak didn't."

Bastila looked at Aithne closely. "Revan was always stronger in the Force. This would carry over into our visions, it seems. One or the other of us must have an extraordinarily active imagination. But you aren't telling me everything."

"Neither are you," Carth and Aithne said at the same time. It would have been funny, if it hadn't been so serious.

"Yes, well," Bastila said, clearly uncomfortable. "The Council…"

Aithne was out of patience with all the evasions. "I don't care if the Council told you not to tell me anything other than 'Good day' and 'The Dark Side will destroy you', Bastila. You're my friend, right?"

Bastila looked up at Aithne miserably. "Aithne, you know I am," she said. "And…I do think soon I'll have to tell you everything. But not yet. No matter what my personal feelings are, the mission must come first."

"So this…whatever you have to tell Aithne, It might jeopardize the mission?" Carth asked quickly.

Bastila closed her eyes. "Please don't ask me any more now," she begged quietly. "I promise, I'll tell both of you everything. Soon. But today's not the day. I can feel that it isn't."

"Ok," Aithne said, relenting. "But Bastila, you will tell me. You'll tell both of us."

"Very well," said Bastila, recovering her composure. "I think…I think I'll be able to tell you when we land on Manaan. Carth, do you need any help in landing?"

Carth held up a finger, speaking rapidly into a headset. Then he looked over at Bastila. "We've been cleared. Actually, Bastila, I've got this one. Aithne needs to talk to you and Zaalbar about Mission."

"Mission?" Bastila inquired. Aithne held onto Carth's chair and Bastila held onto the copilot's chair as Carth brought the _Hawk_ into a dive.

"It's her birthday," Aithne explained.

Bastila's confusion cleared. "Oh, of course. We are preparing festivities for her?"

"Yeah, but don't ever call them 'festivities' again," Aithne said, wincing. "I want you and Zaalbar to help me pick up a few presents. Maybe we'll get a cake. We'll come back and get Mission afterwards."

"Very good. I'm honored you asked me to help," Bastila said. "Quite frankly, it will be wonderful to get off the ship for a bit."

Carth leveled the _Hawk_ out as a port amidst a sea of sand came into view. The two Jedi women adjusted their stance to absorb the landing.

"Anchorhead," he observed.

"It's so small," Aithne said.

"Well, who do you know that wants to live on the Outer Rim in a desert?" Bastila demanded. "The city's main inhabitants are Czerka miners and a few merchants that bargain with the native Jawa."

"Ugh," Aithne expressed her disgust. "Czerka. Oh, I do hope we can cause some trouble for them."

"You," announced Bastila, "are incorrigible." But a smile played at the corner of her mouth, and Carth was grinning.

Carth brought the _Ebon Hawk_ to rest feather-lightly in the docking bay.

"Beautiful landing as usual," Aithne complimented him, and she and Bastila swept out of the cockpit.

She found Mission and Zaalbar in the living area. Zaalbar seemed to be doing most of the talking, which reinforced Carth's statement that Mission was not completely happy. But as soon as Aithne walked up, Mission stood.

"Aithne, can we look for Griff now?" she asked quietly.

"Mission, you know the drill when we land on a new planet," Aithne told her. "Tomorrow we can, but today I've got to scout things out."

Mission nodded simply. Aithne beckoned to Zaalbar. /Big Z, I'm gonna need your help this morning,/ she told him.

Zaalbar looked at her quizzically. Aithne let her eyes flicker meaningfully to the sad Twi'lek at the table. Zaalbar nodded silently, and went to grab his gear.

In five minutes, Aithne, Bastila, and Zaalbar were headed out the door. On her way there, she saw Canderous suited up, polishing the swoop bike.

"Going somewhere, Ordo?" she asked pleasantly.

"Yeah," he grunted. "There's a swoop track on this planet. Figured I'd take your advice and try my luck."

Aithne smiled at him. "Good luck," she said. "Don't get yourself blown up or gutted."

Canderous snorted. "They can't handle this," he boasted.

"Of course not," Aithne agreed. "Farewell."

The spaceport was disorganized and noisy, far different than all the ones Aithne had previously visited. A slimy Czerka officer tried to get her to pay a fee, but she quickly persuaded him not to try.

Unfortunately, not all of the disorganized inhabitants of the hangar were so easy to persuade. Aithne had not been a scheduled landing, and there was a shipment waiting for whoever was supposed to have arrived. A Rodian approached her with a datapad as two men went past her to the _Hawk_ with a box. He forced her to give her thumbprint, and casually mentioned that there might have been a hole in the shipment of gizka.

Aithne suddenly felt like punching something. "Excuse me?" she asked. "Gizka? No, you have to take those back."

/Sorry lady,/ the Rodian said. /They're your problem now./

Aithne cupped her head in her hands. Gizka were small bipedal amphibious creatures. Domestic. Cute. Rather sweet, actually. But they were nefarious throughout the galaxy for their ungodly reproductive rate. And if they were loose…

Aithne turned to threaten the life of the Rodian, unless he took those gizka away, but he was gone. Aithne kicked a nearby crate.

"Oh dear," said Bastila.

"Is that the best you can do?" complained Aithne. "We have _gizka_ loose on our ship, and you say '_Oh, dear_'? I don't usually approve of vulgarity, but now might be a good time for some choice profanities, Bastila." She shook her head in pity and frustration. "I'll be on the lookout for some way to dispose of the pests."

Aithne tried to laugh off the gizka shopping with Bastila and Zaalbar, but truth be told, the inconvenience had spoiled her mood. Still, she was able to get Mission a very nice outfit, modest and pretty, in a local store. She picked up a fairly pricey blaster for Carth's gift, to go with the one she'd given Mission way back on Taris. Bastila and Zaalbar picked up their own small gifts for the girl, and by mid-afternoon everyone's purses were considerably lighter.

Aithne had Zaalbar take the gifts to the cantina and reserve a table for that night, while she and Bastila continued to scout out Anchorhead.

They determined that the only way to leave the settlement, and seek the Star Map, without actually becoming a Czerka miner was to obtain a hunting license from them. They also heard that due to increased numbers of Sand People attacks, Czerka had been giving out fewer licenses.

All in all, it was a frustrating catalogue of information, and left Aithne feeling more than slightly depressed. So as she and Bastila sat in the shade and sipped iced drinks, hoping to relieve a little of the draining Tatooine heat, she tried to get Bastila to talk.

"Bastila? How are you doing?"

Bastila shifted uneasily in her seat. "Not well, I'm afraid," she answered. "I think…I think I may have made a terrible mistake coming on this mission."

Aithne related this to the Jedi girl's comments that morning and a few days ago. She swirled her straw around in her glass thoughtfully. "You were sent along to handle me on this mission, providing me with only the information the Council had pre-approved, but now you're finding out that I won't be handled. You've found you actually like me as a person, and that moreover you have your own issues with the Force and the Jedi Code, and now you're all hot and bothered about it," she summed up flatly, not looking at Bastila.

Bastila gave a weak smile. "More or less," she replied. "Part of my purpose on this mission was to guide you in the way of the Light; to help you avoid the temptations of the Dark Side." Her mouth quirked. "I fear I've failed in that task. Hmph. I very much doubt you'd let any Jedi guide you; not really, and I'm certainly not up for the task."

Aithne frowned. She didn't like hearing humble Bastila. Humility and defeat didn't suit her friend. "Why do you say that?" she asked, and then, playing her part, added, "not that I'm not enjoying hearing it."

Bastila smiled, catching her worry. "The fact of the matter is that I have never possessed much skill in controlling myself, either," she said. "Like you, I have a temper. Like you, I'm just a bit arrogant."

"Are you comparing the two of us?" Aithne demanded.

Bastila looked straight at Aithne, icy blue eyes piercing through her complacency. "Yes. And with the bond that joins us, it seems I'm having even less success in my attempts to control myself. As much as you've wavered at times, you've maintained the Light Path. But in spite of my influence, not because of it."

Aithne crossed her arms, waiting for Bastila to get to the point. "So?"

Bastila sighed, slumping in her seat. "I don't know. I think I may have made a very big mistake. I simply hope you and I don't both pay for the fact I can't help you enough."

Aithne had heard enough. She nudged Bastila, putting on a silly expression. "Hey Bastila," she whispered. "You know what else we have in common? Both of us are completely lost and have no idea what we're doing." She grabbed Bastila's hand across the table and squeezed it. "So maybe we can finally start acting like equals, work together, and help _one another_."

Bastila looked very oddly at Aithne for a moment. Then, hesitantly, she reached out her arms. Aithne studied her for a moment before she realized what the girl wanted. Then she laughed. Reaching over the table she gave the younger Jedi a hug, holding her tightly for a moment. "Hey, you're not alone here, Bas," she said, withdrawing.

"Thank you," Bastila said stiffly. "You've been…much kinder than I deserve. I can see that, however strange it may seem, there is wisdom in your words. Perhaps…perhaps you can help me. I will try to help you, if I can." Looking past Aithne, though, she broke off suddenly. "Isn't that Canderous?"

Looking over where Bastila indicated, Aithne saw Canderous emerging from the swoop racers' hangout, looking pleased with himself as he led his precious bike away, stuffing a few credits into his pack. Aithne hailed him and crossed over. He acknowledged her with a wave, but his amiable expression quickly turned to one of shock as another man came over, following Aithne.

Canderous didn't often look shocked. Aithne turned to look at the man who'd manage to produce that expression. He was Mandalorian, too, she noticed, both younger and more rash-looking than her grizzled companion.

The newcomer thrust his chin out at Canderous and glared. Canderous blinked.

"So, we meet again Canderous," the newcomer growled dramatically. "It has been quite a long time."

"Jagi?" was Canderous' only response. Aithne saw joy, surprise, and fear fighting for domination in his aura.

"Canderous," she hazarded, slightly worried now. "Who is this guy?"

"Obviously, his name is Jagi," Bastila sniffed. Aithne rolled her eyes. Canderous didn't look at either of them, but he answered Aithne.

"He…he was a warrior under my command up to the battle of Althir. But I thought…"

Aithne remembered that the battle of Althir was battle in which Canderous had disobeyed his orders to further the ultimate goal in the heat of the moment. She reevaluated this Jagi, who was interrupting Canderous at the moment with an angry snort.

"You thought I was dead, didn't you? You thought all of us that you had sent on that attack had perished! You sent us to die in a foolish attack while you directed your forces elsewhere! You broke from the battle plan and let us die for it so that you could have the 'honor' of being the first to the enemy commander!" His intonation made 'honor' into a curse.

Aithne tensed, ready for a fight if need be. "What's he talking about, Canderous?" she asked in a low voice.

Canderous looked at Aithne, then down at the ground, and back at Jagi, more uncomfortable than Aithne had ever seen him before. "I…I did what was prudent at the time," he said finally. "If I had not done it, the battle would have…"

Jagi cut him off. "The battle would have been won anyway!" he insisted. "I am tired of your excuses, Canderous."

"Funny," Aithne said lightly. "He hadn't even started making them."

Jagi rounded on her furiously. "Silence, woman!" Aithne flushed with rage, but Canderous held up a hand, and she restrained herself. Jagi turned back to Canderous. "I have spent years tracking you down since the clans were banished," he informed the older Mandalorian smugly. "I will not rest until I have had my vengeance."

Aithne stepped forward, trying to reason with him. "Look. Do you really want to fight him and me? The others of our party may speak for themselves, but if you fight Canderous, you fight me as well."

"I'm not afraid of you," Jagi declared contemptuously. "If you choose, you can die by his side as well."

Aithne gritted her teeth. This Mandalorian kid was rapidly becoming one of her least favorite people. He puffed his chest out and glared at Canderous. "I challenge you, Canderous," he said. "I challenge you to fight the fight you fled that day above Althir. Come out to the dune seas. I will be waiting for you. I've spread the news of this challenge since I learned you had landed on this world. All the surviving Mandalorian clans know of what I do here, and that we shall meet in the desert to settle this debt of vengeance once and for all. If you fail to meet me there you shall be stripped of all honor and forever cast out of our society. It will be you and me alone in the dune seas: a final battle that can only end in death. I shall be waiting for you, Canderous."

And without waiting for a response, Jagi spun on his heel and walked away, presumably to go polish his weapons.

Aithne bit her lip, closed her eyes, took a deep breath and turned to Canderous. "I presume you want to go racing out there right away?" she asked him quietly.

Canderous nodded. "I've been given a challenge I can't ignore," he confirmed, "but Jagi's not likely to be out on the seas until tomorrow afternoon at least."

"Must you Mandalorians be such drama queens?" Aithne sighed.

Canderous gave her a sharp look, then chuckled grimly. "You know, if it were anyone but you, I'd have half a mind to challenge _you_ to a duel for that," he said.

Aithne laughed. Bastila glared at them both. "Really, Aithne, Canderous, are you certain this is a wise path?"

Aithne blinked at her. "It doesn't really matter if it is or not," she said. "I can't really stop him from going, not with his honor at stake, and neither can I let him fight alone."

"This is between me and Jagi," Canderous protested. "You don't have to get involved. Better if you don't."

"I am involved, Ordo," Aithne shot back, crossing her arms. "You're my friend, idiot."

Bastila sighed, resigned. "I will not argue with that logic," she said.

Canderous looked hard at Aithne, then gave a ghost of a smile.

"So," Aithne said, turning the party back towards the _Ebon Hawk_, "You did pretty well in the swoop races, Canderous?"

Canderous grinned predatorily. "I'll say," he agreed. "I'll have Princess here sort out the winnings when we get back to the ship."

Aithne smiled at him, while Bastila scowled at the nickname. Canderous was becoming more and more of a team player as the _Ebon Hawk_ journeyed on.

"There's a party for Mish tonight," she informed him as they turned through the red stone lanes. "It's her birthday."

Canderous looked thoughtful. "How old is the kid again?" he asked.

"She is fifteen today," Bastila replied. "And I would not advise you to let her hear you calling her a child."

Canderous chuckled roughly. "Wouldn't dream of it." He looked off into the distance. "I was fifteen when I dropped down on that Basilisk," he recollected. He turned to Aithne. "I'll be there," he said.

From him, it meant a lot. Aithne smiled again. "Thank you," she said simply. "Mission will appreciate it."

Aithne checked her chrono as they entered the hangar. "We've got just enough time to freshen up before we'll need to head out," she said.

Aithne found Mission sitting alone in the women's dormitory after she'd showered and dressed. Mission looked out the window from her top bunk, though the glass was so thick that there was nothing to see.

"Happy Birthday, Mission," Aithne said, swinging up next to her.

"Carth told you," Mission said, not looking at her. It wasn't a question.

"Yeah, he did," Aithne said.

"Did he tell you I'm not really feeling happy?" Mission asked. It was an invitation to leave. Aithne didn't accept.

"Well_ I_ am, Mission," said Aithne firmly, grabbing the thin shoulder of the teenager. Mission looked at her, and Aithne continued. "You listen to me. I'm _very_ happy that you're _here_ and not burnt to a crisp on Taris. I'm very happy that you're fifteen today, with the rest of what will undoubtedly be an extraordinary life ahead of you. I'm happy that you're here with me, and Big Z, and Carth, and T3, and Bastila, and Jolee, and Juhani and Canderous. And Mission?"

The girl looked at her, grey eyes measuring her with all the wariness she'd gotten on the streets of Taris, and all the loneliness she'd accumulated through years of no one caring. "Yeah?"

"They're happy, too. I don't need to tell you that Zaalbar cares about you. I hope I don't need to tell you that I do. But I think you need to know that _all_ of us do. You're one of us, Mission. You're important to the mission, yeah. But we care about you as a person, too. And all of us are looking forward to watching you grow up."

"You aren't gonna leave?" Mission asked, trying to sound like she didn't care, and failing miserably.

Aithne sighed. She didn't want to lie to the kid. "They might," she said reluctantly. "Once the mission's over. But they'll still love you. And Mission? _I_ won't. I'll take care of you, one way or another."

Mission studied her face for a few seconds, biting her lower lip. Then closing her eyes, she hugged Aithne for all she was worth. Aithne held her, letting the girl know that for probably the first time in far too long, she wasn't alone. She laughed a little. It seemed to be a common theme for today.

Mission laughed too, a little wetly. When she pulled away, her eyes were suspiciously shiny, but her smile was where it belonged on her face. Aithne smiled back at her, then grabbed the girl's hand.

"Now, c'mon! If we don't go now we'll be late for that party the entire crew's been planning all day!"

Mission blinked, shocked. Then slowly, she grinned. " 'Aithne Morrigan, report to the cockpit'?" she quoted. "That geezer!" She shook her head. "Let's go."

Zaalbar really had outdone himself, Aithne thought as she entered the cantina. Lights hung from the ceiling like stars in their darkly paneled reserved room, and a small pile of brightly wrapped gifts sat on the end of a long, white tablecloth. Mission's eyes lit up as she saw the cake Big Z had picked out for her.

"Zaalbar, I don't…oh, Aithne, Carth," she stammered, looking around the room wildly, not sure what to do first or who to thank.

Carth grinned at her. "What, is Mission Vao speechless? Bastila, this almost tops you without a lecture."

Bastila sniffed. "Why is it that when someone changes their behavior for one nanosecond you two go on and on about it? Mission has every right to be wordless if she so chooses."

" 'Course she does," Jolee put in. "Carth's just commenting on the fact that babbling is as much the kid's nature as lecturing is yours or Aithne's is being annoying."

Mission turned purple. "I'm…"

"Not a kid," everyone quoted back at her. She blushed.

/Sit down already,/ Zaalbar complained. /I've been sitting here staring at the cake for hours, and I'm hungry!/

Mission laughed. "Sorry, Big Z. Let's get you fed."

Everyone talked merrily as they ate nerf burgers and cake and other wonderfully greasy, unhealthy foods they'd undoubtedly all regret the next day. Mission thanked everyone rapturously for her gifts, and went off in the corner with Canderous to compare the strengths and weaknesses of her new blaster. Juhani had a bit too much to drink and ended up dancing with Teethree, much to the amusement of the group. Jolee told an enthralled Zaalbar tales of his exploits.

Bastila sat back in the darkening room next to Aithne, who leant up against Carth on her other side.

"I wish it could be like this more often," Aithne said wistfully to the two of them. "Just all of us, together, with no galaxy to save."

"But how boring would that be?" Carth asked her teasingly, brushing a stray chestnut curl out of her eyes.

"Boring?" Aithne asked him, pointing over to where Mission, Juhani, and Jolee had just started a singing contest. She laughed. "We could never be boring."

"I understand what you mean," Bastila said, surprisingly sad sounding. Her eyes were fixed hungrily on the group, and Aithne could see her longing to join the revelers warring with her years and years of Jedi restraint.

"Bastila?" she said to her Jedi friend. "Go join them. Go live." She looked up at Carth and gestured around the room. "I am."

Bastila looked at her, then softly, hesitantly, smiled.

"Hey, Bastila," Mission called. "Betcha can't out sing Juhani!"

Bastila rose haughtily. "Oh, can't I?" she asked, walking over to the others. She seemed lighter with each step she took.

Carth turned his head to look at her, his expression unfathomable. "That was a good thing you did," he told her.

She sniffed. "I do manage to do well sometimes," she said, in a remarkable Bastila impression. Carth laughed, and pulled her closer to his side.

"Aithne, what is this?" he asked. Aithne looked at him, and the air was suddenly charged. She knew what he meant. _What are we, he wants to know._

She grimaced at him. "I'm supposed to ask that question," she said. "Don't go infringing on my territory, Onasi."

Carth looked at her. "Aithne, answer the question."

Aithne pulled away from him. "I don't know," she said finally. She looked back at him. "I think I've finally decided that, stupid as it is, I don't want to bother trying to stay away from you anymore. Saul Karath or no Saul Karath, whether you ever get over your wife or not, I'll take what I can. Every day as long as you're around."

Carth considered this. He looked oddly disappointed. "And when I'm not?" he asked.

Aithne's heart turned over in her chest and a lump came into her throat, but she stared straight at him. "I'll deal," she said shortly.

Carth's eyes bored into hers, trying to read into all that she wasn't saying. He brought his hand up to cup her cheek, and Aithne closed her eyes, trying not to think of how it was going to feel when he inevitably left. Mission was belting out some terrible drinking song, Jolee was harmonizing in a very off-key rusty voice, and Juhani and Bastila were howling with laughter, but the merriment seemed somewhat incongruous just now.

"Beautiful?" Carth said, and Aithne opened her eyes. "Tonight I'm here."

_Tonight I'm with you, _he meant. Aithne smiled slowly. She grabbed his hand from where it still rested on her cheek and pulled him to his feet.

"You _are_ here," she repeated. "Let's go join the others." And they danced, and they laughed, and just for one evening, the crew of the _Ebon Hawk_ pretended things were alright.

It was nearing midnight when they finished taking down the decorations and began heading back towards the _Hawk. _Mission strode up in front with Zaalbar and Canderous. Jolee supported Juhani. The Cathar was going to have a terrible headache in the morning. Aithne sympathized, of course, but she found she was anticipating the Jedi Knight's embarrassment when she recalled her silliness this evening a little too much. Carth walked with Teethree just ahead of her and Bastila. The poor droid had done a bit too much dancing, and he claimed his circuits were still dizzy. At least that's what Mission said he was saying. Aithne really needed to get around to learning Astromech.

As they passed the late-nighters in the cantina, Bastila stopped suddenly. Her eyes widened. Aithne halted, wondering what in the galaxy could make the Princess gawk like that. She followed Bastila's gaze.

Her eyes came to rest on a woman, sitting on a dingy chair at a table in the corner at a cantina at midnight as if it were a throne in a palace at three in the afternoon. She was stocky, with light brown hair liberally streaked with gray, and a worn tunic. But the haughty expression on her pale face looked oddly familiar, and Aithne was less surprised than one might have thought when Bastila said breathlessly,

"Mother?"

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><p><strong>AN: I actually think that the Carth POV up there is the last NPC POV I have until Chapter Thirty-Two. Anyway, I thought the crew of the _Ebon Hawk_ could use a break to just be friends. So I gave them one. And then I had to throw in more drama. What's wrong with me? **

**Leave a review if you're enjoying the story. Or if you have a problem with the story and want me to fix it. Either way, I could use the feedback.**

**May the Force Be With You,**

**LMSharp**


	27. Life to Experience and Meatbags to Kill

**Disclaimer: I no more own Chapter the Twenty-Seventh than I owned its twenty-six predecessors.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Twenty-Seven<p>

The woman looked at Bastila quizzically. "Yes, I'm sorry, do I know you?"

Aithne bit her lip. _Ouch,_ she thought. Bastila's eyes widened. "Mother, it's me, Bastila! Don't you recognize me?"

The woman, Bastila's mother, looked Bastila up and down coolly. "What do you expect, when I haven't so much as had a picture of you since you left?" she demanded. "I've been looking for you. Didn't you know?"

"Is that what you're doing in a dirty cantina in the middle of the night?" asked Bastila acidly. "Well, congratulations, Mother. You found me. What do you want? Where's Father?"

Bastila's mother looked down, and for a moment her regal face softened. She looked tired in the dark cantina, and strangely fragile. "Then you haven't heard. I should have known."

"Has something happened to him?" Bastila asked. "Tell me!"

Bastila's mother looked straight at her daughter. In a voice devoid of emotion, she said, "Your father is dead, Bastila. That's part of the reason I'm here, instead of at home. You've been busy enough. With some digging, I was able to trace you to Tatooine, and I figured you'd come here sooner or later. I've let a room upstairs."

"Never mind that," Bastila said, rudely and impatiently. Aithne's eyebrows rose. "Father's dead!" Bastila continued. "What happened to him? What did you do to him?"

"Bastila!" Aithne cried, shocked. Bastila's mother's face had paled, and she flinched as if from a blow.

"Isn't this a lovely reunion?" gasped the woman, directing her words at Aithne. "Already she is flinging insults at me. Tell me…you're one of the friends she was just being so loud with. Do you treat your mother this way?"

Aithne looked at Bastila. Her friend's lips were tight, her eyebrows drawn. Anger and confusion were emanating from her in waves. Aithne looked back at the woman at the table, and shook her head slightly. "Please, Mrs. Shan, leave me out of this," she said in a low voice.

The woman sniffed, and Aithne could suddenly see where Bastila had gotten that particularly annoying habit. "I'm sure Bastila feels the same way you do," she said. "She would prefer to be left completely out of it, at least until I'm as dead as her father is."

"What do you mean?" snapped Bastila.

"You don't care," retorted her mother. "If I were so sick I was dying, you wouldn't care!"

At these words, Aithne examined the woman more closely. She was a bit thin, and though paleness seemed to run in the family, Aithne noticed that Bastila's mother was nearly transparent. Her eyes were suspiciously bright. As Bastila and her mother continued to bicker, Aithne moved unobtrusively over to the bar to have a word with the owner of the cantina. She went up to the dirty, shifty looking human that seemed to have more of an air of command than the others serving.

"Sir, what do you know about the woman in the corner?" she asked.

Subtly, she edged a five credit piece over the counter. The man snatched it up and answered without a pause. "The one arguing with your friend? That's Helena Shan. Her husband died in a hunt a few weeks ago." His mouth quirked down a bit, and Aithne saw with some apprehension that this man felt sorry for Helena. "Too bad for her, really. She doesn't have a job, see, and she's running out of money for her doctor's bills."

"Doctor's bills?" Aithne asked.

"Yeah," the man said, beginning to move away. "The woman's dying. They say she won't last another three months."

Aithne felt sick as she returned to the bickering mother and daughter. Helena eyed her, noting where she'd come from, and stuck out her chin a little more, but didn't comment. Instead, she said to Bastila,

"Such sweet things you say. Perhaps I should tell you everything, first, before we start arguing again."

"You could start by telling me what you got Father into that killed him," Bastila said waspishly.

Aithne grabbed Bastila's hand, shaking her head. "Bastila," she said sharply. "Don't."

"I hadn't realized Jedi were so spiteful," Helena said. The reprimand was catty, but not without effect. Bastila looked down briefly, reminded how she should behave, but Aithne saw in the set of the girl's shoulders that now she was angry with herself, and consequently would be even more difficult. Helena continued. "You want me to tell you I brought your father here for an expedition, do you? You want to blame me for his death? You never accepted that your father loved going on his treasure hunts, leaving you alone with me. I was always to blame for everything. What else is new? So yes, fine. I brought your father here to look for krayt dragon pearls. He took an expedition into the Tatooine desert and he died."

"How can you be sure of that?" Bastila interjected. "Father is an experienced…"

Her mother cut her off. "You think I'd be telling you if I weren't sure? They were attacked by a krayt dragon and one of the guides fled the battle. He saw your father killed."

Bastila's face twisted, and Aithne saw her fight tears for a few seconds before she spoke again. "I…see…So what do you want from me? Credits?"

Helena closed her eyes momentarily, and Aithne could see she was hurt. Defensiveness radiated off the sick woman, but when she answered she spoke calmly. "Don't be insulting," she commanded. "I want you to use those senses of yours. I want you to find him. I want you to bring back his holocron."

"Why?" Bastila demanded. "So you can sell it?"

Aithne closed her eyes. She went inside her head and erected an instantaneous wall between herself and Bastila. The anger and resentment and hurt had been flooding through it, and the viciousness was bad enough just to listen to. When Aithne opened her eyes, Bastila was looking at her. She'd felt the door slam, and she looked confused and hurt.

Helena was asking Bastila, "Is it too much to ask that I have something to remember your father by? Of course it is. You couldn't be bothered."

Bastila looked away. "We're very busy on a mission from the Jedi Council," she said uneasily. "I doubt we'll have the time. Ask Aithne if you doubt me."

Helena snorted. "You had time enough to make all that racket twenty minutes ago," she objected. "Look. Just find your father's holocron, and you won't have to worry about me again."

"Predictable," Bastila sniffed. "Very well. We'll look for the holocron if we have time. I can't promise more than that."

Helena almost smiled. "I believe your father was headed north towards the Sand People Enclave. I would check along that route, dear. Do please hurry."

Bastila made a sound of disgust in her throat, turned on her heel, and made for the door.

Aithne looked at Bastila's retreating back and went up to Helena. She clasped the older woman's hand. "Look, ma'am, I'm sorry," she murmured. "I'll…I'll try to talk to her."

Helena closed her eyes, face hard, but she did not withdraw her hand. "If you can," she said in a low voice, "it'll be more than I can manage." The raw pain in her voice set Aithne's eyes to stinging.

Bastila was glaring at Aithne from the door. "Aithne," she called. "Come along."

Helena patted Aithne's hand. "Go," she whispered. "I'll be fine."

Aithne straightened and let go. She closed the distance between herself and Bastila swiftly and gripped the younger Jedi's arm. They walked quickly back to the _Ebon Hawk_ in silence. When Bastila made for the dormitory, Aithne held her back.

"Aithne," Bastila began to protest. "It's been a long day, and…"

"And you and I need to talk anyway," Aithne hissed, keeping her voice low to avoid waking anyone. "Conference room. Now."

Bastila caught her tone. She actually paled, and then she bowed her head and obeyed without further comment. Aithne followed her to the conference room, and shut the door behind them with a swoosh. She turned. "Sit."

Bastila sat. Aithne took the seat opposite her in the great table. It gave the late-night meeting a very formal feeling. For a moment, Aithne just regarded Bastila.

"Look," she said. "I don't know what your home life was like before you left for the Order. But that was the first time you saw your mother in what? Fifteen years? More? And you do not treat her that way."

Bastila flushed. "You heard her, Aithne!" she objected.

Aithne inclined her head. "I did. And every single objectionable comment she made in that cantina was preceded by an attack of yours. You started what went down in there, Bastila."

"You don't know what she's like," Bastila argued. "And what business is it of yours how I treat my mother, anyway?"

"Jedi business, Padawan," Aithne retorted. Bastila stiffened. "You weren't following the Code back there. In your terms, _or_ in mine. Your behavior lacked wisdom. It lacked compassion. And more basically, it lacked common courtesy and decency. And may I point out, Bastila, that you may not know what she's like either? Not now. She may have changed."

Some of the ferocity and defensiveness in Bastila's face began to fade. More gently, Aithne continued. "Bastila? You may not have known what she was like then, either. You were how old again?"

"Four," Bastila said quietly. "I was four."

Aithne thought that could stand on its own. She let the silence stretch between them. Finally, Bastila nodded. "You're right," she admitted. "I was wrong. I seem to have trouble remaining objective when it comes to her. It troubles me. In…" she stopped. Her face twisted, and she bit her lip.

Aithne stood, and walked around the table to sit beside Bastila. "Go on," she said. She had a feeling her time as bad cop was over. Bastila had always been quick to recognize her mistakes, and much to Aithne's gratification, she was beginning to be just as quick to own up to them.

"In my defense, it took me by surprise to hear that…Father's dead. That leaves such a hurt inside…you can't imagine."

Aithne sighed. "I think I can. I never knew my mother, but my father died when I was a child. I…I loved him dearly."

Bastila shot Aithne a strange look, half gratitude, and half…guilt? Her fists clenched. But after a moment, she said, "Thank you."

Aithne tentatively reopened the link between herself and Bastila. Most of Bastila's anger had ebbed. Instead, Aithne felt regret and loss, and surprisingly, a large part of Bastila's emotions at the moment were feelings of fondness and gratitude for herself and the rest of the _Ebon Hawk_'s crew.

"That's better," Aithne said calmly. She grabbed Bastila's hand. "Hurt? Regret? Love? Those are fine. Healthy even."

She felt a thread of doubt spring to life in Bastila's head. _There is no emotion..._she felt the deep impressions the mantra had made in Bastila's head. Aithne shook her head.

"Does that really help, Bastila? Burying and suppressing all those emotions, in favor of emptiness? 'Cause it seems to me that it would just be kind of empty."

Bastila laughed. "Listen to us. You do realize that I was supposed to mentor you?"

Aithne chuckled, too. "Princess, you never had a chance. If it helps, I like you a lot better now than I did."

Aithne felt a flash of fear from her friend, then amusement. Bastila looked sideways at Aithne. "You know, so do I. And it frightens me."

"Your life's just gonna get tougher," Aithne said gently.

"What do you mean?" Bastila asked.

"Bas, your mother _is_ sick. The owner of the cantina told me. From what I gather, she's been going to the doctor. With your father dead, she's running out of money to pay for her treatments…he said," she hesitated. "He said she had about three months."

Bastila looked at Aithne incredulously for a second. "Three months?" she said breathlessly.

Aithne nodded. Bastila's face drained, until she almost looked as sick as Helena. Finally, she said. "I don't…exactly know how to respond. I have never been fond of her…but she's the only mother I have."

She sat in shocked silence for a moment or two, then looked at Aithne. Her eyes burned. "We have to get my father's holocron," she said. "We must."

"That was the plan," Aithne replied. "We'll get it."

"Thank you," Bastila said again. Without another word, she rose. Aithne didn't stop her. She probably needed time to think. Aithne gave it a few seconds after she'd left, then left the conference room as well.

"You done?" Carth asked, emerging from the shadows of the cockpit. "We were all kind of worried about you two."

Aithne turned to face him. "Just another crew member crisis," she said lightly. "Go easy on Bastila the next few days. You know the drill." She shifted her weight to her back leg and put her hand on her hip. "You know, flyboy, you really oughtn't to lurk around like that. People might get the wrong idea."

"What kind of idea would that be?" Carth asked, one eyebrow raised just so. The mood changed abruptly, and a shiver raced up and down Aithne's spine as she looked up at him in the darkness of the ship. The rest of the crew- with the exception of Bastila, who Aithne could feel was far away and preoccupied- was asleep, and she and Carth were alone.

He leaned up against the door frame of the conference room, arms crossed, and his mouth quirked up as she went still. Aithne took a deep, rattling breath, and Carth smirked. "Shut up," Aithne snapped. Carth began to outright grin. "I mean it, Carth. It's not fair." She took a step back. "It's late. A lot's happened today."

She turned to go. "Don't," he said. "Don't get embarrassed and leave. It's not like it's just you."

Aithne stopped. "It isn't?" she said, without turning around.

Aithne heard him shift. Aithne felt out with her senses. She could swear she felt the heat coming off his skin, though there was at least two feet between them.

"You think I'd still be here if it was?" was his awkward reply. Aithne turned back to face him, waiting.

"Look…" he said. "It's just…strange. It's been…a while."

"Since?" Aithne asked.

"Since I cared about…anyone, really."

Aithne closed her eyes. "Don't say that," she begged.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. When she opened her eyes she was looking right into his face.

"Why?" he asked in a low voice.

Aithne sighed. "Because I'm a liar, Carth, that's why, and you caring about me, or any of us makes 'taking what I can' a lot harder," she said, crossing her arms over her body protectively. Maybe she'd had a bit too much to drink at the cantina tonight, too, to be so honest. Or maybe she was just really tired.

But if anything, Carth's focus on her intensified. "What if I'm not happy with whatever happens today, either?" he challenged.

Aithne took in a shaky breath. "You really want to go there? Fine. Then tell me what happens if you ever get your revenge on Saul." She faced him, waiting. Carth let go of her shoulder like it was a hot iron, suddenly tense.

"You mean if I kill him?"

"Yes. What happens then?"

"I…I never thought about it," Carth admitted. "I suppose I always assumed I would be dead when Saul was."

Aithne pressed her lips together. She nodded once. Twice. "I see. And what exactly made you assume that? What do you plan on doing?"

Carth held her gaze, answering in full and honestly. "Understand that whenever I envisioned taking on Saul in the past, it was always as the captain of my own ship…or alone. In those cases, I would risk everything. I'm not in the same situation now, though." His words were gently. "I wouldn't risk you…or the others."

"That's something at least," Aithne said, bitterly.

"You don't think I would throw away everything we're doing here, do you?" Carth asked, nettled.

Aithne stuck out her chin. "I don't know," she challenged. "Isn't killing Saul your life, Onasi?"

Carth looked hurt, and Aithne was glad. "I would like to think that I wouldn't put you in danger," he said slowly, definitely. "Or forget that there's more behind Saul that needs to be stopped."

Aithne prodded him in the chest. "So don't. I need your help, Carth. I want your help." She stepped down again and dropped her arms helplessly. Barely audibly she added, "I want _you_."

Carth's eyes fired suddenly in the dimness. He closed the distance to Aithne again in a heartbeat. He skimmed a large, calloused hand along her jaw, tilted her head up, and met her lips in a kiss.

It was different from either of the previous times they had kissed, Aithne thought hazily. The first time, he had kissed her. The kiss had been urgent, full of gratitude that she was alive. The second time she had kissed him to get a reaction out of Bastila. It had been quick, with no real feeling at all. This time, the kiss was urgent, too. But it wasn't sweet in the slightest. This kiss was desperate, almost angry, and not at all safe or chaste. Aithne melted against Carth. Her arms found their way around his neck, and she found herself backed against the wall of the _Hawk_ as Carth continued to kiss her.

Her thoughts had been hazy, but the metal wall at her back cleared her head, and an overwhelming feeling of panic rose up in her mind. Pushing past the desire, she murmured against Carth's lips. "No."

Carth drew back, a question on his face. "No?" he whispered. His voice was husky.

Aithne shivered, but she shook her head and stepped away. "No," she repeated. "Carth, I want to be with you. But not yet, and not now." _You're not ready, _she thought. _And neither am I. _

Carth looked at her with visible reluctance, but he sighed. "You're right," he said quietly. "You're right. I'm sorry."

Aithne shook her head again. "Don't be. Just remember. There's more than Saul to fight. And...there's more of life to experience."

Carth nodded, eyes searching her face. "I…I know. I'll see this through. I promise you that. No matter what. As for what comes afterward?" He grinned at her. "Well, let's wait until we know I'm around to see it."

It was half a promise, and Aithne took it as such. She smiled, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him once, softly. "You better be," she whispered. She turned, and left for bed, but she felt his eyes on her all the way down the corridor.

Aithne awoke the next morning in a determined sort of mood. There were quite a few things she needed to do that day. She listed them in her head before getting out of bed. There was a hunting license that had to be obtained from the Czerka slime somehow. She had to discover the whereabouts of a useless Twi'lek. That afternoon she had to help her drama queen Mandalorian friend win his stupid challenge. And, she thought as she dressed, she really ought to begin the search for the Star Map and Bastila's father's holocron. She tied her hair up and called the crew together for breakfast.

"It's too damn early to be up after last night," Jolee complained, rubbing his head. Juhani merely groaned.

Aithne shot the entire weary crew her sunniest smile. "I had less sleep than any of you," she announced. "I hereby declare all of you to be without rights to whine."

Bastila looked at her suspiciously, darting a glance at Carth. Aithne blinked at the Jedi girl, revealing nothing.

"What is the plan?" Juhani said in her accented voice, looking a little strained.

"Does it involve getting the gizka out of here?" Canderous inquired, glaring at one croaking beneath the table.

Aithne grimaced. "Unfortunately not. Juhani, though, if you like you may go back to bed. I don't particularly need you today."

Juhani stood, and bowed. "I thank you," she murmured. Somewhat unsteadily, she left the room.

"Poor kid can't hold her liquor," Canderous remarked, somewhat condescendingly.

"Be that as it may, I don't want any of you to tease her about it," Aithne said, focusing her eyes on Mission and Jolee. "_Any_ of you."

"You're no fun," Mission complained. Aithne made a face at her.

"For the majority of the day," she explained to the remaining crew members, "I'll be in town trying to discover the whereabouts of Griff Vao and talk the Czerka into giving me a hunting license so I and whoever goes with me will be allowed out of Anchorhead."

/Czerka,/ Zaalbar growled. /You plan to _talk_ to them?/

His meaning was clear. Aithne sighed dramatically. "Sadly, yes," she answered for the benefit of the group. "I plan to talk to them peacefully. We can't go kicking the slavers and scum off every planet. For one, it takes too long, and in addition, we'll get a reputation we can't afford." She grinned at Zaalbar. /Maybe a few years after we take down Malak we can go postal on Czerka Corporation./ Zaalbar nodded, satisfied.

"We're going to look for Griff?" Mission asked, now that Aithne seemed to have said her piece. Aithne looked at her, expressionless, and then nodded.

"You'll want to come along," she said. It wasn't a question. "Go get your gear." Mission nodded quickly, and left to obey.

"Canderous," Aithne said to the Mandalorian, her eyes narrowed. She continued in Mandalorian. /Provided I can get the hunting license, this afternoon you will settle your grievance with Jagi. I will accompany you./ This, too, was not a question.

"I'll need time to prepare," Canderous said, surprisingly in Basic. Aithne looked at him quizzically. "They deserve to know," was his response. He addressed the group. "I've been challenged by a Mandalorian previously under my command. I cannot ignore this challenge. This afternoon, either he dies, or I do."

"And Aithne?" was Carth's short, tense question.

Aithne pressed her lips together. He was going to be difficult about this. Nevertheless, she answered. "Under Mandalorian law, if I interfere in this challenge, my life is forfeit as well. If he can handle us. Captain, this is my choice," she added, maintaining eye contact with him.

Carth's eyes were hard. _After all this, you think Canderous and I can't handle an angry Mandalorian?_ she asked him silently. Eventually he dropped his gazed. "Don't take unnecessary risks," he said. He looked up at Canderous. "Either of you."

Canderous looked across the table at Carth, seeming to judge him. After a moment in which the entire table just watched the two men, realizing this was somehow important, Canderous abruptly stuck his hand out at Carth. Carth took it, and Canderous muttered something in Mandalorian to the pilot. Aithne didn't quite catch it, but she saw that Bastila did, and the young Jedi's eyes widened. Carth nodded, shook Canderous' hand, and the two men sat down again. Feeling that she had missed something rather vital, Aithne cleared her throat.

"Alright, so Canderous will stay at the _Hawk_ this morning while Mission and I head to Czerka offices. Is there anyone else who would like to come? Remember I can only take one other."

Zaalbar seemed to consider the offer, but Aithne could see he realized that handling Czerka peacefully was probably something he shouldn't participate in, and he said nothing. Aithne looked at Bastila, but the Jedi shook her head.

"I'll go," Carth said. Aithne looked around the table at Jolee and Teethree.

Jolee shrugged. "Take the pilot out for some fun," he said, winking at her. Aithne glared at him, and Carth's ears turned pink. Teethree beeped something. Aithne wasn't sure what he said, but it sounded impertinent. Carth's ears reddened more, and avoiding Aithne's gaze, he left to gather his own gear.

"I hope to locate the Star Map by tomorrow evening," she told Bastila. "If…Helena…was able to track us, the less time we spend in any one location the better."

Bastila nodded, but the corner of her mouth turned down. Aithne looked at her, then at Canderous, Teethree, and Jolee, the remaining crew members. She made a shooing motion at Canderous and the droid.

"Go," she said shortly. "Meeting adjourned." Canderous looked a question at the unusually silent Jedi girl, and T3-M4 beeped inquisitively, but they left willingly enough.

Aithne turned back to Bastila. "Look, I'd stay with you if I could," she said. "Jolee?"

"Yes, lass?" he asked. "What can I do?"

Aithne glanced at Bastila, checking to make sure it was okay. She nodded.

"Her mother's here," Aithne told him. "That's why we were late last night. I think…I think you can probably help her, better than I could, even. Will you?"

"Oh, it's not like the old man has anything better to do," Jolee quipped. But seeing Bastila's expression, he relented. "I'll do what I can. Get out of here."

Aithne nodded, and left. Five minutes later, she was stepping over a gizka to join Mission and Carth in the port. The suns were already high in the sky, and a hot wind was blowing. Aithne scowled.

"Let's go," she growled. "The sooner we get our jobs here done the sooner we can get away from this Force-cursed desert."

"You can say that again," Mission agreed, shading her eyes with her hand to keep the sand out. Rather grimly, the three set out into Anchorhead.

"Carth?" Aithne asked as they went along. "Did you understand what Canderous said to you back there?"

Carth looked away. "Er…yes. We all learned Mandalorian back at the Academy. We hoped we might intercept enemy transmissions."

"Well, what did he say?" Aithne prodded him.

"If you didn't hear it, Canderous probably didn't want you to hear it," Carth answered evasively, still not looking at Aithne.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?" Aithne sighed.

Carth looked straight ahead. "I wasn't planning on it," he replied.

Mission, slightly behind the two of them, spoke up. "So are you two together yet or what? I saw you last night at the cantina."

Aithne had a flashback to the metal wall of the _Hawk_ at her back and Carth at her lips. She blushed beet red, and had to restrain herself from bringing a hand up to touch her lips. Carth didn't answer either.

"Well, are you?"

"Mission," Carth said finally. "Even if it was any of your business, and it's _not_, things aren't that easy."

"But you want 'em to be," Mission said confidently, skipping a step to walk between Carth and Aithne. She smiled at Aithne. "It'll happen," she said to no one in particular. "So. How much farther?"

Aithne rolled her eyes. "How can you be so energetic in this heat?"

"You're just old," Mission shot back, sticking out her tongue impudently. "I'm on an adventure, we're gonna find Griff, and I'm out of that rust bucket. Why shouldn't I be energetic?"

"Hey!" Carth said, needled at the insult to his ship. "The _Ebon Hawk_ is not a rust bucket!"

"Jolee says it is, too," Mission retorted.

"Well Jolee is a…" Carth began with some heat, but Aithne cut him off.

"We're here. Stop bickering, children, and come along."

They entered the almost painfully clean headquarters of Czerka on Tatooine. Mission looked around eagerly, as if expecting Griff to be waiting with open arms. Instead, she was nearly bowled over by an alien leaving shouting things like "Murderers," and "Corporate Evasion," and "Bureaucratic tyrant!"

Somewhat bemused, Aithne turned to look at the rather harried-looking official blowing hair out of her face, identifying her as the source of the alien's fury. Aithne walked up to her.

"Can I help you?" she began, perfectly poised. "These are the offices of…"

Aithne cut her off, uninterested in the official's Czerka rigmarole."Czerka, I know. I actually can read the sign outside, you know."

The woman narrowed her eyes in annoyance. "I trust you have business with the company?" she asked.

Aithne made no effort to hide her distaste. "Unfortunately yes. I'm looking for a miner named Griff."

The woman paled, bit her lip, shifted, and generally looked nervous before she began to lie. "Griff? Uh…there's no Griff here. Never heard of him. No…I…I don't remember a single Griff on the Czerka payroll."

Aithne smiled, unimpressed. "You know, for a Czerka employee, you are an exceptionally bad liar." She layered her voice with the Force, dripping persuasion off her tongue. "C'mon. Tell me about Griff."

The woman nodded eagerly, and Aithne fought the urge to roll her eyes. Typical Czerka mind-slave. In order to buy so fully into a company, a person had to have a weak mind to begin with. "You know what?" the woman said brightly, "I think I will." Behind Aithne, Mission grabbed Carth's hand tightly. "We hired Griff some time ago," the woman explained. "Not a good worker according to his crew chief: always complaining and faking injuries to get out of work. He entered false time sheets and slept through his shifts. We even suspected him of stealing Czerka Corporation supplies, although we could never prove it."

Aithne's lips narrowed. Griff had been here, then, but, "This is all past tense," she said impatiently. "Where is Griff now?"

The Czerka officer waved her hand dismissively. "We would've fired him, but we needed workers. It would've been better for him if he had been fired. Then the Sand People wouldn't have gotten him."

Mission gasped. Carth put an arm around the girl. Aithne's face hardened. "I see…"

The Czerka officer continued. "Yeah, he was lost in a raid we suffered not too long ago. There were prisoners taken, but our rescue parties never found anyone alive. In the end it just wasn't cost effective to keep searching. All miners sign a waiver absolving Czerka Corporation of liability in these circumstances."

Aithne smiled unpleasantly, disgusted, and angry on behalf of Mission, but still trying to keep things civil. "Oh, I understand perfectly," she said. "In that case, I'll be needing a hunting license."

The Czerka Officer shook her head. "We're no longer selling them. There are too many people cavorting about outside the walls as it is."

" 'Cavorting' isn't exactly what I had in mind," Aithne murmured. "Is there no way I can get a license?"

The Czerka mind-slave of an officer bit her lip, eyeing Aithne's lightsabers, and Mission and Carth's blasters. Finally, she said. "Well, normally we charge 200 credits, but I could make an exception if you agreed to perform a task for us. It's similar to hunting. The Sand People are becoming a problem."

Aithne crossed her arms, beginning to see what the woman was getting at, and not liking it at all. "I see," she said.

"They destroy our Sandcrawlers and kill our miners," explained the representative. "One particular tribe is the worst. It's as if their chieftain has decided to wage a war against us. I would like their attacks…" she looked uncomfortable, then pressed on. "Terminated. Bring me their gaffi sticks as proof. If you agree to do this, I'll give you a hunting license now and pay a bounty for each stick later. I'll give a bonus for the chieftain's."

Lazily, to hide her disgust, Aithne said, "You want me to go out and murder a tribe of sentients? Well why didn't you say so? And why just pay for the gaffi sticks? Why not heads?"

Carth grimaced in the back. So did the Czerka representative. "Which would you rather have dumped on your office floor?" she retorted acidly. "Besides, they are ceremonial weapons unique to each warrior. It's just as good."

Aithne's mind was working furiously. But for the moment, she said, "Sure, why not? I've done worse, I suppose."

Darting her eyes down to Aithne's lightsaber, the Czerka officer asked lightly, "So you're a Sith, then?"

Aithne smiled dangerously. "No. Let's say I'm an…independent. I've no fondness for the Sith, nor they for me. I've a loose alliance with the Jedi, but it is _very_ loose. We simply have the same goal."

The Czerka Officer looked nervous. Aithne didn't really blame her. Freaking her out had been half Aithne's intention, after all. If she were in the woman's place and had just made an assassination deal with a Jedi with no stated affiliation, she'd be nervous, too. She smiled wider, enjoying the woman's anxiety. Aithne was not overly fond of Czerka.

"Excellent," the woman said finally. "Now, just so we understand each other, this is an enforceable contract. Czerka Corporation takes this very seriously." Rummaging in some papers in the nearby desk, she handed Aithne a few papers. "Here is your hunting license, and a few directions. We believe one of their Enclaves is in the far South of the Dune Sea. You might try following one of our…"

Aithne cut off the officer. "I'll take care of the strategy. Thanks."

"Czerka Corporation looks forward to your future business," the woman said uneasily, but Aithne had already turned and walked out the door with her friends. Oh, if only that Czerka Corp rep had known.

Aithne stopped in the doorway. "Mission," she said to the girl. "I don't…"

"There's nothing to talk about," Mission said, face stern. "Those Sand People took my brother prisoner. Griff may be a slime, but we have to go rescue him! We can't just leave him with those…those…those monsters!"

Aithne winced. "Mission, I'll do what I can. You know I will, but he's been there a few days now."

Mission flinched. "I can't think about that," she said softly.

Aithne nodded wearily. "I'm on it," she said.

"You can count on her," Carth told the girl.

"I know," Mission told him. "There are definite fringe benefits to being friends with a Jedi!"

"Not really," Carth corrected. "I've known a few. But there are definite fringe benefits to being friends with Aithne Morrigan." He smiled over Mission's head at the same.

/Excuse me,/ said a passing Duros. Aithne recognized him as the same one that had almost bowled Mission over leaving the Czerka Office when they'd first gone in. /But don't believe anything they told you about the Sand People. I've watched them, and they're sentient./

/Look, sir,/ Aithne told him in his native tongue. /If there is any way I can avoid taking down all those Sand People, I'll do it. I don't like Czerka either. But they have my friend's kinsman prisoner, and I don't know any way to negotiate with them. Their language hasn't ever been learned, has it?/

/Well, no,/ the Duros blustered. /But there's a droid in Yuka Laka's shop that he's claiming can translate. You might try that. Of course, Yuka Laka'll say anything./

/I'll try it,/ Aithne told him. The Duros looked at her hard, nodded once, and left.

"What's going on?" Carth asked.

Aithne grinned. "There might be a way to get Griff out and work Czerka over."

"We're trying it?" Carth asked, beginning to smile.

"Naturally. It's not like I really wanted to help them out." she answered. "To Yuka Laka's droid shop!"

When they arrived at the droid shop, Aithne was unsurprised to discover it was dusty and run-down. She was surprised to discover that there was only one droid for sale. After questioning the owner, a greedy, stupid-looking Ithorian named Yuka Laka, Aithne discovered that the droid, a tall, mean-looking specimen in worn, rust-red armor, was indeed the translating protocol droid the Duros had mentioned might speak the Sand People dialect. Yuka Laka didn't seem to know much about the droid and its history. The only thing he mentioned with certainty was that the droid knew and could translate an incredible number of cultures and languages, and that it was one of the best at handling weapons he'd ever seen. Aithne decided to inspect the droid, known as HK-47, herself. Mission went over to examine a few of the droid upgrades Yuka Laka had on the shelves. Carth walked over with Aithne to the droid.

As soon as the droid recognized they were making their way over, its red, narrow eyes brightened, and it hailed them in a rather unusual manner.

"Greeting:" the droid, well, greeted them. "Hello to you, prospective purchaser. I am referred to as HK-47, a fully functional Systech Corporation droid skilled in both combat and protocol functions. Query: Would you be so kind as to purchase this model from Yuka Laka? It would serve my purposes to be removed from his ownership."

Aithne and Carth looked at the droid blankly, dumbfounded. Carth recovered first.

"It sure talks a lot, doesn't it?" he asked Aithne.

Aithne nodded, eyes wide. She addressed the droid with the question that seemed to be of most concern at the moment. "_Your_ purposes? If I'm going to purchase you, it's _my_ purposes that matter, isn't it? Outline your functions."

The droid swiveled its triangular, menacing head. "Refusal: It is not desirable for me to reveal core functions while still in the possession of Yuka Laka, prospective purchaser. It is sufficient to say that I am a fully capable translator and cultural analyst, and I am also proficient in…personal combat."

The hesitation set off about three different alarm bells in Aithne's head. She whispered to Carth, "I think this is one of the oddest droids I've ever met. I'm not sure if I love him or want to turn him into scrap."

Carth nodded cautiously. "Agreed."

Aithne turned back to HK-47. "Why are you keeping information to yourself?"

HK-47 seemed to try to make his tone light. He had more expression in his tonality than most of the droids Aithne had encountered in her years of traversing the galaxy. "Explanation: I have recently been fitted with a restraining bolt, if you must know. With it in place, access to much of my memory core is restricted. Not to mention that the fool Ithorian might raise his asking price if he knew more…or make inquiries into my history. Neither outcome is beneficial to me."

Carth whispered to Aithne, "This is one of the smartest models I've seen. It could be dangerous."

"How do I know you'll be loyal once the restraining bolt is removed?" Aithne asked the droid, flicking her gaze to Carth in acknowledgement of his warning.

HK-47 spread his arms wide. "Assurance: I am fully autonomous but lack resources," he said. "I will grant loyal service in exchange for proper maintenance. As well, it is rare that I am able to utilize my full array of abilities. You seem likely to give me the opportunity to do so."

"I see," Aithne hazarded. "Why do you think so?"

HK-47 indicated Carth's blasters and Aithne's lightsabers. "Extrapolation: You are no farmer or diplomat. You are armed and comfortable as such. We will mesh well."

"_Definitely_ dangerous," Carth revised his impression.

"Why?" Aithne demanded of the droid. "Why would I need you? Sell yourself."

HK-47's eyes gleamed. His expression didn't change. It couldn't, but he gave off an unshakeable impression that he was smiling. "Disclosure: I am a versatile protocol and combat droid, fluent in verbal and cultural translation. Should your needs prove more…practical, I am also skilled in highly personal combat."

Aithne narrowed her eyes, examining the droid. "Why are you better than a battle droid in that respect?" she asked.

HK-47 did that pseudo-grin again. "Disclosure:" he disclosed smugly. "Finesse. Battle droids hold battle fields. I am capable of eliminating a very…specific type of target."

"You're an assassin," Carth said bluntly, grabbing Aithne's arm. "Let's go."

"Retraction:" HK-47 said hastily. "Droids built for such a function face strict regulation and often have unique difficulties with previous owners. I therefore make no claim to that designation, prospective buyer. I am a law-abiding droid. Yes, indeed, law-abiding, that's me."

Aithne looked the droid up and down again. Then, oddly enough, she laughed. Something dark and amused within her liked the droid.

"_Right_," she said sarcastically. "I'll see about purchasing you," she told the droid. "You interest me."

HK-47 nodded, lowering his voice. "Statement: The fool Ithorian has decided I am to be an expensive purchase. He does this out of greed and not out of knowledge of my true capabilities. Advisement: I have observed him. He is a coward, and will be responsive to…aggressive bargaining."

Aithne laughed, looking at the Ithorian. "I can see he might," she agreed. "You really don't like him, do you?"

HK-47 looked affronted. "Statement: He treats me ill, and is a poorly-skilled mechanic. Of course I don't like him." Suddenly he looked nervous. "Qualification: Er…of course I shall be quite pleasant to you, should you purchase me. Please?"

Aithne laughed again. "I'll keep that in mind." She began to walk over to Yuka Laka. Carth drew her aside, scowling.

"Aithne, this is a bad idea."

Aithne hesitated. "He's smart, yeah, and we don't know much about his history, and I think you're right in saying he was originally an assassin. But I like him."

"Why?" Carth demanded. "He's proud and insulting and that quirk he has of identifying every sentence he speaks is annoying as…" he cut himself off before he swore.

Aithne shook her head. "I don't know. I just feel like, for some reason, he should be with us. Just as much as you and Bastila. Almost…more. It's an odd feeling." She stared into space. Something danced at the edge of her consciousness, like a dream she just couldn't remember.

Carth looked at her. "We're talking the Force?" he asked resignedly.

Aithne laughed a little, shrugging. "Maybe. Anyway, I'm getting him."

Aithne did not use aggressive bargaining with the Ithorian, as HK-47, already Aytchkay in her mind, had suggested. She did use the Force, and was able to talk Yuka Laka into 80% off his original price. Not much the worse for buying the droid, Aithne headed back over to it cheerfully.

Aytchkay greeted her. "Statement: I see you have purchased me, master. I find this a satisfactory arrangement. My restraining bolt will be deactivated when you take possession of me. Am I to accompany you now? Shall I kill something for you?"

Aithne's eyes widened. Carth shrugged. "I told you so," he muttered.

"Um…kill something for me?" Aithne repeated.

HK-47 nodded. "Answer: Indeed. I am most eager to engage in some unadulterated violence. At your command, of course, master."

Aithne nodded slowly. "Well that's good, at least. Travel with me now."

The new droid stepped up. "Statement: I will enter into your service now, master. I am certain you will make adequate use of my primary functions. My gears are practically quivering with anticipation."

Aithne nodded. "Well, let's get that bolt off. Mission," she called.

Mission skipped up. "I found some great parts for Teethree," she announced. "Can I get 'em? Please?" She checked at the sight of the menacing droid at Aithne's side. " 'Course, we could also upgrade your new…friend here."

"Gratification:" Aytchkay said. "That would be most appreciated, small blue organic meatbag."

"Meatbag?" Mission said, wrinkling her nose. "The name's Mission, Rusty."

"Query:" HK-47, said, directing his words at Aithne. "Can I kill the small blue meatbag?"

"Whoa, there," Mission said, stepping back.

Aithne shook her head. "No, Aytchkay. You may not kill any of my companions. There are eight of them, and these with me are two of them."

"Sheesh," Mission said in an undertone. "What kind of droid'd you get?"

"Anyway, Mission," said Aithne, now distracted. "You can get your parts after Yuka Laka removes Aytchkay's restraining bolt."

She was beginning to think that HK-47 would take some getting used to.

This was only confirmed when, while removing the restraining bolt, Yuka Laka made a casual comment about Aytchkay being worn out and off his hands. HK-47 was up in arms in an instant, literally.

"Objection:" he objected, "Worn out? Listen, you talentless organic meatbag, one word from my master and I will pull you apart limb from useless limb!"

Yuka Laka started, jumping back maybe two feet. He laughed uncertainly. "Err…you've gotten a little hostile there, droid, haven't you?"

Aytchkay's eyes narrowed. "I have always been hostile," he retorted. "Now that I need no longer rely on you and your primitive maintenance skills I do not need to hide it."

"Aytchkay," Aithne said tightly. "Easy."

Mission made her purchases. As they were leaving, Aychkay turned to Aithne. "Query:" he said in a coaxing tone. "Can I kill him now, Master? I would like ever so much to crush his neck. Just a little. It is a long time fantasy of mine."

The words were unspeakably bloodthirsty, but so quaintly spoken in that wistful tone of voice that Aithne didn't know whether to be appalled or to laugh until she cried.

"Maybe later," she finally managed.

"You hear that, meatbag?" Aytchkay hollered at the pale Yuka Laka. "I will be back!"

Aithne snorted, and simultaneously wanted to hit her head against a wall. It was a reaction she was to become accustomed to when around HK-47.

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><p><strong>AN: Coming up: Canderous has a duel, Aithne negotiates with some Sand People, and Mission makes the unfortunate discovery that rumor, when it comes to her brother Griff, is indeed founded in fact. PLEASE review. **

**-LMSharp**


	28. Promises Made and Promises Broken

**Disclaimer: KotOR is not my property. Neither are HK-47, Carth Onasi, Bastila Shan, and…oh, you get the picture.**

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><p>Chapter Twenty-Eight<p>

From Yuka Laka's droid shop, Aithne went directly back to the _Ebon Hawk_, an annoyed Carth, Mission, and HK-47 in tow. She was obliged to remind her new droid no less than three separate times that he was not to kill bystanders on the street simply for looking at her the wrong way. However, when three random Sith attacked in an alleyway, she found that there actually was an advantage to owning this strange new droid. HK-47 dispatched Malak's goons quickly and efficiently, with considerable glee. Aithne didn't even have to get her outfit a little bloody.

Still she was rather irritated, to say the least, when they arrived back at the ship, and Carth was looking downright murderous. Aithne called the crew in quickly. All of them checked at the sight of her tall, forbidding new escort.

"Aytchkay? This is the crew. Jolee, Canderous, Juhani- hi, you're looking better by the way- Bastila, Zaalbar, and T3-M4. You've met Carth and Mission. You are not allowed, under any circumstances, to kill, maim, or otherwise frighten these people, meatbags though they be. Everyone, this is HK-47."

"Would he like to kill, maim, or otherwise frighten us?" Jolee asked curiously.

Aytchkay answered for himself. "Answer: Sadly, yes, aged meatbag, but if the master says I may not harm you, you are safe from me."

Bastila blinked. "What an…interesting droid," she said blandly.

_Tell me about it,_ Aithne said, directly to Bastila's mind. _But you should've seen him take out three of Malak's assassins back there._

"Aytchkay is going to help us in our dealings with the Sand People," Aithne told the group. "Aside from the Jawas, the Sand People have the best knowledge of the desert. If there's a Star Map out there, they'll know where to find it. Besides, they have Mission's brother." Aithne shrugged. "But we'll deal with that tomorrow. Canderous? Are you ready?"

Canderous, polishing his big gun in the corner, nodded.

Aithne looked around. "Okay then. Give me ten minutes to eat something, and we'll head out. Aytchkay? You want to come? Two Mandalorians, a duel to the death? You'll have a blast. Maybe literally."

Canderous, Jolee, and to Aithne's surprise Juhani chuckled. Bastila and Carth scowled at her.

Aytchkay's eyes glowed in anticipation. "Statement: I look forward to it exceedingly, master."

Aithne sighed. "You probably do. Look, I'm gonna try to scrub some of the sand out of my hair and grab a bite to eat."

The crew nodded, made their excuses, and went their separate ways. Aithne re-braided her hair, washed her face, and checked to make sure that the sand in her lightsabers hadn't hindered their efficiency. In the entrance, she heard HK-47 grilling Canderous on how involved he was allowed to be in the duel, and Canderous' answers, which started off amused, but then veered towards the annoyed as Aithne grabbed an energy bar. Hoisting her pack up again on her shoulder, Aithne went to rescue the poor Mandalorian from his droid tormenter.

Carth stood there at the entrance, waiting. Surprisingly, it was on Canderous his gaze lingered. He seemed to be searching the man's face for something.

HK-47 took his place up at Aithne's side. Canderous went to Carth. "Republic," he said. "I gave my word, didn't I? Stop worrying. It ill becomes a soldier of your caliber. I'll bring her back."

Aithne quirked an eyebrow at the two men. Canderous looked back at her levelly. Carth flushed and looked away.

"Let's go," Canderous said. Aithne looked back at Carth curiously. Finally, he looked up. He waved.

"I'll…I'll see you later," he said. Canderous nodded brusquely, and Aithne, the Mandalorian, and the bloodthirsty assassin droid set out.

A few paces out, Aithne turned to Canderous. "What was _that_, Ordo? You'll bring me back, like I'm some sort of _object_? What exactly did you tell him this morning?"

"What did you tell me yesterday?" Canderous countered unexpectedly. He kept walking, looking straight ahead, but his words punched Aithne in the gut. "It was irresponsible of you as the leader of this party to venture yourself in a life or death duel for someone else's honor. Especially without first consulting Republic."

He fell silent. Aithne felt defensive. "Exactly why should I have consulted Carth Onasi before deciding to accompany you today?" she demanded.

Canderous snorted. "Don't give me that, kid. I've seen the way he looks at you. The way you look at him. We all have. Onasi's sacrificed enough. You've given yourself to him, for better or worse, and as such, he should have a say in what you do."

"Given myself…" Aithne sputtered, turning red. "Carth Onasi, order me around?"

"I didn't say that," Canderous contradicted. "All I'm saying is you should talk to him before you go off and risk yourself like this. It's responsible, and becomes you as a warrior."

Aithne looked down, annoyed by his tone. "I've never exactly been responsible," she muttered.

"Make it your business to be," Canderous snapped. "You're important, Morrigan. You're on a mission to stop Malak. You've given your word to the Jedi Council and to your companions. Are you a woman of honor or not? And it's not just that. You're important personally to that bunch of misfits, too. To Shan. To Juhani. To Bindo and Zaalbar. Especially to Mission and Onasi."

Aithne felt slightly ashamed. "Canderous, why didn't you just tell me before?"

"Princess knew," Canderous said. "I assumed you'd tell the others. But Republic shows up this morning without a damn idea what's going on."

Aithne bowed her head. "I probably should have told him," she admitted.

Canderous simply nodded. Aithne, more quietly, asked, "What'd you tell him?"

Canderous shrugged. "I said I thought of you as my kinswoman. I said he was a good man, and I'd bring you safely back to him at the end of the battle."

Aithne was speechless, and quite touched. She put a hand on Canderous' arm, trying to express her gratitude and fondness for the grizzled old warrior. He shouldered her off, but not roughly. "Try not to be an idiot next time," he growled.

Aithne smiled, and nodded. And with that they were at the city gates. The gate guard asked for her license, then let her out with a minimum of fuss and delay.

And Aithne beheld the Dune Sea. Sand stretched out for miles. Just sand. There was not a rock or tree or shrub in sight to relieve her eyes of the dizzying bright gold of it all. There wasn't a cloud in the sky to cast a helpful, friendly shadow. The sun beat down on Aithne and Canderous' faces, and a hot wind threw sand into awkward places in their clothes.

Canderous swore. " 'Bout the worst place Jagi could've picked for a duel," he remarked.

"At least we'll see him right away," Aithne said, trying to be upbeat.

Canderous snorted. "If we find him at all."

HK-47 spoke up for the first time since leaving the ship. "Statement: My life sensors are picking up several large quadrupeds in the vicinity, and a few scattered groups of bipedal organisms. Query: Shall we kill something, master?"

"I think we'll have to, Aytchkay," Aithne told him. "Let's go."

The three of them ran into two Sand People raids and a troupe of miners before they finally found the right group of bipedal organisms, skulking in the shadow of a downed sandcrawler.

Jagi had brought two shifty looking Rodians with him. Aithne held up a hand to tell HK-47 to hold his fire. Jagi spoke.

"Ah," he said, loudly and dramatically. "I see you managed to come after all. I see you brought friends."

Canderous nodded jerkily. "You brought some of your own as well," he replied, not angrily, not politely. He simply said it.

Jagi laughed harshly. "Indeed I did. I foresaw that you might need help so I arranged a distraction."

Aithne spoke up. "Funny. I'm pretty sure that Canderous could take you and your friends on alone, actually. I came of my own free will, actually against his advice."

Jagi looked down at her haughtily. "I do not need to hear your excuses, Jedi!" he sneered. "I know why he brought you."

Canderous paled, and his scars stood out more vibrantly on his face. "Enough of this talk, Jagi," he snapped, suddenly focused. "Let us do what we came here to do."

Aithne looked at the tight tendons of the Mandalorian men. On a hunch, she said, "I think you both need to calm down."

"We both know the stakes here," Jagi replied. "And we both know what we must do. It is only in death that this can end."

"This is a matter of honor," Canderous told her. "I cannot stand by this insult. I must do this."

Aithne crossed her arms and looked at him. "Why?" she demanded.

Canderous didn't look at her, but he answered. "He has slandered me and questioned my honor. Among the Mandalore, many have died for lesser insults."

"I speak the truth!" Jagi declared. "And honor is the question here! The deaths of my comrades, your warriors, is a debt in blood that can only be paid by you. When you saw prospects for glory, you abandoned the plan and left us to die surrounded by enemies!"

Canderous retorted, "If I had not attacked when I did, the battle would not have been won so easily!"

"It would still have been won!" shouted Jagi. "You sent your own men to die there Canderous. I cannot forgive you for what you did to us! You will pay!"

"That's not the way it happened," objected Canderous.

Aithne held up her hands. "How did it?" she asked politely, explaining to Jagi, "It is only fitting that both stories be known so the victor's may be hailed as truth."

Jagi nodded tersely. Canderous spoke. "The Althiri were fighting hard," he explained. "I saw a break in their defenses that left their center exposed. I had to take the chance. If I had not done what I did, many more warriors would have died and the battle would have taken much longer. I stand by my decision."

His jaw held firm. Jagi's lips tightened. "You coward!" he hissed. "You glory hunter! You were given direct orders and were part of a plan! You had a responsibility to us!"

Canderous' eyes flicked to Aithne, to Jagi, and back to the ground. "I…I can regret their loss," he managed, "but it was necessary."

But Aithne understood. "Tactics, Jagi," she explained. "Formulating a new, better plan on the spot. Making sacrifices to advance your goal. Canderous was smart."

"He left us to die when his responsibility was to us," Jagi argued, but some of the heat had left his voice, and Aithne thought he was listening. "Instead he went hunting more glory for himself."

Aithne pressed her advantage. "By his actions Canderous may have saved other lives."

"He cost us ours!" said Jagi, and his words were a lament for the friends he must have lost. His face settled, and he looked at Aithne, for the first time with something approaching respect. "But…but I do see your point." He turned back to Canderous, a genuine question in his face. "But…why did you have to leave us there to die while you chased glory somewhere else?"

Canderous' tone calmed too. "I saw a chance and had to take it," he reiterated. "It ended the battle quicker than we would have otherwise, and many of our warriors may have died. Mandalore taught us that opportunism and flexibility in battle were to be admired. You may contradict me, but do you contradict him as well?"

Jagi shouted his answer. "No!" He calmed. "I…I see that I have been wrong. I have not been true to the teachings of Mandalore." A look of inexplicable sadness came over his face. "You were right," he told Canderous. "I was wrong to question your honor. But I must now cleanse mine with my life."

"Jagi!" Aithne cried, as the younger Mandalorian brought his blaster up, but it was too late. Canderous watched as Jagi blew his head off, sending blood spurting and marring his face beyond recognition. Aithne winced, and a tear ran down her face.

Jagi fell. "So shall it be," Canderous murmured.

Aithne turned her attention to the Rodians, who were even now advancing. /Hey!/ she told him. /Jagi's down. He didn't want to fight anymore./

/But, you see,/ said one of the Rodians. /He paid _us_ to. Ethics, you know./

/And you might have something we want,/ the other said.

Canderous' face was hard. Aithne's hardened, too. She turned away. "Aytchkay?" she said simply.

"Agreement: With pleasure, master," the droid said, blasting a hole through one of the thugs with his rifle. Canderous took out the other, then went to Jagi.

Kneeling beside the corpse, he looked up at Aithne. "I…I think this has affected me in ways that I didn't anticipate," he confessed, his face more shaken than Aithne had seen it yet. "I think I'll need time to sort things out. Thanks for what you did, Aithne Morrigan. I just need time."

"What are you going to do with him?" she asked quietly.

"He died with honor," Canderous said simply. "In battle. It would be a discourtesy to move him." He murmured a few words in his own tongue over Jagi, and then rose, his face hard as stone.

"Let's leave."

They trekked the distance back to the _Hawk_ in silence. Aithne felt dirty. She'd tried to avoid death out there in the desert, but it had followed her in any case. And in a very physical sense, she was dirty. She was sweaty and gritty and tired and depressed. Aithne felt like she could shower for a year.

"And I haven't even found the Star Map yet! Or Mission's worthless brother!" she said aloud to no one in particular.

Carth was waiting at the door when they arrived. Aithne wondered if he'd even left. In fact, the entire crew was there, waiting to hear the outcome of Canderous' duel.

"Did you kill him?" Bastila wanted to know.

"No," Canderous answered.

"Well, is he still alive, then?" Mission asked.

"No," was the answer again.

"Ok," Aithne said. "I'll answer questions later. Right now? I want a shower. Stat."

And the crew parted like the sea. When Aithne spoke in that tone, they'd learned not to mess around.

There were plenty of questions later. Aithne quickly shut off Aytchkay when she emerged from the shower so that the rest of the crew could avoid hearing him recount the skillful way he had vaporized Sand People and thugs alike, and make his case for why Aithne should allow him to do the same to every random person they passed on the street.

"Mission? Bastila?" Aithne said, after everyone had finished questioning her and eating dinner.

"Yes," was the Jedi's response.

"Yeah," Mission mumbled through a mouth full of dessert.

"We're going to go out tomorrow, with Aytchkay, to look for Griff Vao, the Star Map, and…other things."

"But what about the rule?" Mission piped up.

"The object is to _get off this planet_," Aithne replied, in answer to the Twi'lek's question and Bastila's glare. "Tomorrow we hang the rules."

Bastila started to object, but then her face grew pensive, and Aithne knew she was remembering her mother. "Alright," she said finally.

"Good," Aithne said. "You two should get some sleep. Trust me, you'll need it."

The crew had begun to leave at this point. Mission crossed her arms. "You'll need to sleep, too."

Aithne snorted. "And I will. After I wind down a bit. Long day, and all that."

Bastila looked at her piercingly, and then nodded. Aithne was left to her own devices. She wandered around the ship a bit aimlessly.

The fight with Jagi had upset her. _I can't seem to get it right, no matter what I do,_ she thought. And after getting to know HK-47 better, she had made some disturbing discoveries.

She'd done some work on him after her shower and before dinner, and had discovered that his memory core had some problems. His history was one huge blank. She'd begun to repair it, and so far the discoveries were grim. He'd killed the last two masters he'd had; both incidents were accidents, true, but he'd killed them. Aithne found that now at the end of the day she was still glad she'd purchased the droid. He was still amusing and annoying and fascinating all at once. But the part of her that was amused by her bloodthirsty new droid was that same creature that had awoken briefly on Korriban.

Without quite knowing how she'd gotten there, Aithne found herself in the med bay, now acknowledged by all as the territory of Jolee Bindo. She considered a moment, then knocked at the door frame.

"I thought I might be seeing you tonight," he greeted her, without turning around. "Come in. What's troubling you?"

Aithne wasn't exactly sure. And when she opened her mouth, what came out wasn't what she thought would.

"Why'd you leave the Jedi?"

Jolee looked surprised too. He motioned for her to sit in a chair. Aithne sat.

"Who said I left the Jedi?" Jolee asked.

Aithne knew that if she decided not to continue the conversation, this was her cue. But something in her told her that yes, she really wanted to know more about this enigmatic old man.

"You did," she protested. "You said back on Kashyyyk you weren't a Jedi any longer."

Jolee shrugged. "Well, technically I was only ever a Padawan…not that that makes a difference to most. But as for the Order itself…no, I never left it. It left me."

Aithne felt that if she were less tired she could probably figure this out. But at the moment, she was bone weary, and had little patience for his cryptic words. "Are you a Jedi or not?" she demanded.

Jolee looked annoyed. "Something wrong with your ears? I thought folks only went deaf when they got to my age. I follow the Jedi Way and use the Force, don't I? That makes me a Jedi, last time I checked. But the Order, itself, the Jedi Council and so forth…no, I'm not part of that and haven't been for a long time. And good riddance, I say!"

Aithne laughed, picturing the look on Master Vandar's face if he heard that, all closed up and pruny. "Nice! But why?"

"You know what I hate?" said Jolee, leaning down in his chair to rest his arms on his knees. "Well…you know, lots of things, really. But I'm old and easily annoyed, and that's not the point. What I really hate is how most people view the Jedi. Everyone thinks the Jedi are perfect, that they can do no wrong. They think the Jedi Council is completely incapable of injustice."

Aithne snorted. "As if. Idiots. I don't think that, and I'm certainly not perfect."

Jolee smiled. "Well, I guess you aren't as stupid as you sometimes act. No doubt you've been on the receiving end of Jedi justice at least once, hmm? And I'm not even talking about how some of us fall to the Dark Side," he clarified, with a nod at Aithne and a gesture of his hand at Juhani's quarters. "No, I'm talking about how, more often than not, your average robe-wearing Jedi can try to do the right thing and be completely wrong."

Aithne's eyebrows went up, and she shot a look in Bastila's direction. Jolee shrugged in answer to her unspoken question.

"How did the Jedi wrong you?" Aithne asked.

Jolee shook his head, looking sad and tired. "No, no, the Jedi always treated me well. It would be foolish and untrue to say otherwise. That's not what I meant anyway." He sat up, and looked at Aithne, and she inwardly groaned. She could see in his face he was about to be difficult. "Come to think of it, I don't have to be clear!" he declared. "Someone my age is entitled to ramble, dammit! But for your sake, I'll try to explain. I'll tell you a little tale about a Jedi Master I once knew. Hortath, I think. Or was it Hartoth? I could never remember."

Aithne sighed, and sat back. At this point, there was no escape. Ah, well, she'd asked for it. "Is this going to have a point?" she asked.

Jolee sighed dramatically. "You know the problem with the youth of today?" he asked the ceiling rhetorically. "They're young." He looked back at Aithne, as if suddenly recalling her existence. "Where was I, then? Oh. Oh, yes…Master Hortath. He was a kindly old Jedi who meant well, but the most near-sighted thing in the Core, I swear. He would walk into walls, knock over tables, mistake apprentices for rancor beasts, that sort of thing."

Aithne laughed. Jolee nodded sagely. "And he was too proud to submit to proper treatment. Some used to counsel him and urged, 'Use the Force, Master Hortath. Allow the Force to see for you.' But he refused to believe that his eyes were failing. He simply squinted more and more as the years went on, the other Jedi resignedly passing it off as the amusing quirk of a compassionate old man."

Aithne nodded. "Ok. What next?"

"So one day," Jolee related, "a young Padawan meets Master Hortath in the courtyard and, not knowing of his blindness, asks him for directions to the Council. Quite sure of himself, Hortath gave the lad instructions, which happened to lead back outside and away from the Enclave. The Padawan is confused, naturally. He asks if Master Hortath is sure, and of course Master Hortath says that he is. The Padawan suggests that perhaps he should ask someone else…but the proud Hortath now feels insulted. He tells the Padawan to take the route he prescribed and no other. Rather dejectedly, the Padawan did as he was told…and so ended up leaving the Jedi Order forever. It was decided that the boy's fate was to leave the Order anyway…though whether that was out of respect for Hortath or because the boy went on to something else we'll never know."

Aithne considered this. "I…see," she said at last.

Jolee stood up and helped her to her feet. "Hmph," he said. "No you don't. Go think about it. Shoo!"

Aithne did think about it. And though she wasn't sure she understood it even late that night, she felt a little better.

The next morning, Aithne rose early, feeling much more like herself. She dressed quickly, armed up, ate a silent breakfast alone, and then went to find Carth.

She found him in the cockpit, fiddling with some of the instrument calibrations.

"Hey," she said, leaning against the door frame.

"Hey," he said back, in much the same tone.

Aithne strode forward, unable to bear the distance. "Look," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Canderous and I had a talk. I'm sorry I didn't talk with you about the duel before I informed the crew I'd be fighting it. It must've been…unpleasant to find out that way."

"It was," Carth confirmed, but he turned around. He opened his mouth to say something, and then shut it, started to turn around again, then turned back and reopened his mouth.

Aithne shook her head. "Okay, I've apologized. What's bothering you now? You want to say something."

Carth raised his eyebrows at her tone. "You can tell, can you?" he said, rather sarcastically.

Aithne smiled. "Well," she said sweetly. "Your mouth keeps opening. That's a sign, I think."

"You're feeling better," Carth remarked. "But listen, beautiful, I don't _need_ to take this abuse. I get enough female Jedi bashing from Bastila."

Aithne pushed him lightly. "You love the attention. Admit it."

Carth crossed his arms. "You think so? I could probably get the same kind of attention from a blaster rifle."

"Aytchkay would be happy to serve you," Aithne said brightly.

"I'll bet he would," Carth grumbled.

Aithne stood up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. "_But_, if that's not what you had in mind, I think there are things I can do that a blaster can't."

Carth moved suddenly, so that Aithne fell into his arms. "Now _that_ I'd like to see," he said. Aithne bit her lip, eyes dancing, and saw him get it the multiple meanings. He set her gingerly upright again. "Or would I?" he asked. Aithne grinned, and didn't answer. He grinned back a bit ruefully. "You've got my damn head on backwards, you know that?"

Aithne shrugged, but said nothing. In fact, she hadn't known that, but she was delighted to. But Carth frowned.

"Anyway, as fun as this is, I do have to talk to you about something serious. Really serious. Is now a good time?"

"The others won't leave until I'm ready," Aithne told him, referring to her plans for the day. "I'm not ready. Spit it out, flyboy."

Carth smiled gratefully. "Alright," he said, sitting down in the pilot's chair and motioning for Aithne to sit across from him. She did so, wondering what he wanted to tell her. "I'm…uh, I'm concerned about you," he said finally. "I've been keeping these thoughts to myself mostly, because I wasn't sure you'd listen anyways, but I think it's time I say something."

Aithne nodded. "I'll listen. What's this about?"

Carth shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "It's about you," he managed. "I'm worried about what might happen to you. You have a lot of courage, and the fact that through all of this you've remained strong is amazing, but I think there's even greater danger ahead. I think…I think you may be setting yourself up for a fall." He looked off into the distance, trying to work out how to phrase his words. "Maybe at the urging of the Jedi, I don't know, but for some reason I think you're going to become Malak's number one target. If…uh, if I'm going to find some purpose beyond taking revenge on Saul, then it's going to have to be in protecting you." He looked frankly at her, and Aithne knew exactly what he meant. She went very still.

After a long moment, she said, "Carth, are you _sure_? We weren't talking about it…"

Carth cut her off with an impatient wave of his hand. "I know what we said. I've thought about it a lot, and 'whatever happens, happens' isn't good enough. It's not fair to you, or good enough for me. I think some terrible fate is waiting for you. I think the Jedi Council knows it. I think Bastila knows it. And I don't want that to come to pass."

"You think Bastila knows something terrible is going to happen to me?" Aithne asked Carth, frankly dubious.

"I think she knows vital information about the dangers you're facing that she, perhaps at the Jedi Council's request, is deliberately keeping from us," Carth qualified. "Don't get me wrong, I think she's a friend. But something isn't right. You know it. I know it. I blamed it on you before, but I know the Jedi didn't tell us everything."

Aithne nodded. He made sense. For maybe the thousandth time, Aithne was glad Carth was with her, both for personal and practical reasons. He continued, eyes boring into hers with an intensity that almost scared her.

"If I'm going to live past Saul, I need you to, as well. Let me be there. Let me protect you. From yourself, from the Sith- you have to let me try."

Aithne's voice deserted her. "Why are you doing this?" she asked him in a whisper.

"Because….because I never got the chance to save my wife and son," Carth said. Aithne sat up, offended. Carth held up a hand. "Because I didn't stop Saul when I had a chance." Aithne flinched, but stayed put. Carth finished, more softly, "Because I finally have the chance to do it right. You, Aithne, are an extraordinary woman. You make me think that maybe I might have some purpose beyond revenge. I don't know if it means…"

Aithne cut him off there. She felt like joy was radiating out of her very soul. "Oh, shut up," she told him, as a tear ran down her face. "You know exactly what this means to me. I hadn't scarcely allowed myself to hope…" she trailed off. She laughed. "Of course you can stay after Saul. Stay, fly the ship, be paranoid, fight next to me, and help me tear up the Sith armada. For as long as you want." She grabbed his hands across the aisle, looking straight into his eyes. "And I am honored beyond words that it's me you're staying for, Carth. Thank you."

Carth couldn't speak for a moment. Finally, he choked out. "I'm glad. I'll be there," he said, and his words were a promise. "I wouldn't miss it, and I'll do my best to protect you."

Aithne smiled at him. "I feel safer already," she said, and she did. Safer of body, safer of mind, and safer of heart. She stood. "But I can't stay."

"No," Carth agreed. "Go find the Star Map. Shoot some Sand People for me."

"Um, no," said Aithne. "Never liked guns, myself. But Aytchkay will!"

Aithne smiled as she left the cockpit, hearing Carth mutter about bloodthirsty, annoying, snobby droids behind her.

Aithne was still smiling when she, Aytchkay, Bastila, and Mission had been attacked by three different sets of Sand People.

"What are you so happy about, anyway?" Mission wanted to know. The Twi'lek was discovering the joys of sand in one's clothing and sunburned lekku. As a result, she was grumpy and curt.

"Query:" Aytchkay asked, "What is not to be happy about? That is the third group of native meatbags we've slaughtered this morning! Statement: Oh, master, it is a beautiful day!"

Bastila rolled her eyes. Aithne however, merely sighed and said, "Yeah."

Bastila took one cursory glance at Aithne. "It's Carth," she said to Mission. "What has happened?" she asked.

"He's staying," Aithne told them. "Until we finish, after he gets his revenge on Saul Karath even. He's staying with me." She laughed. "He's staying _for_ me."

Aytchkay swiveled his head around to Bastila. "Query: What is wrong with the master? Is she ill?"

"No, droid, she is not, though she's probably as useless as if she were," Bastila replied irritably. "Focus, Aithne, if you please. Which direction is the Enclave?"

"The Sand People Enclave?" Aithne replied, shaking her head as she processed the non-Carth related question.

"No, the one for the blind pink Rodians," Bastila snapped, with frightful and rather uncharacteristic sarcasm. "Of course the Sand People Enclave!"

The tone lent Aithne focus. She glared at Bastila, but Mission put a hand on her shoulder.

"Look, Aithne. I'm happy for you, you know I am," the Twi'lek whispered. "But can you wait to melt over it until after we find Griff and negotiate with the Sand People?"

Aithne's gaze cleared as she shoved thoughts of Carth to the side. There was a job to do. She couldn't afford the blood she'd pay if she forgot that, or the humiliation the others would inflict on her later. Reddening, Aithne imagined the consequences if Canderous or Jolee had been out here with her.

"Right," she said, spying an odd sort of sandstone gate in the distance. "That ought to be the entrance to their territory. But from what I've heard, we'll need to think of a way to get through there undetected to the Enclave."

Mission held up a hand briefly, and her face lit up. Without a word she dashed away to the north.

"Aytchkay, follow her," Aithne ordered the droid. "Cover her if she's attacked."

"Agreement: Yes, master," HK-47 replied, loping off surprisingly fast in pursuit of the teenager.

In less than five minutes both droid and girl were back, the latter carrying somewhat bloody robes.

"I went back to that last attack site," she explained breathlessly. "Here," she handed a Sand People garment to both Bastila and Aithne. "They ought to disguise us until we get close up and they can see we're the wrong shape, you know? Maybe then you and HK-47'll be able to talk to them."

"Brilliant, Mission," Aithne said, pulling her robe over her head. The teenager beamed.

"Good sun protection, too," Aithne remarked. "Now, as we get closer, we'll need to talk less so the Sand People around don't hear us and attack."

"Noted," Bastila said, seemingly in a better mood now that Aithne had focused again. She didn't fuss as she pulled the bloodstained, sandy garment over her own head, though Aithne saw her nose wrinkle and filed the picture away in her mind to pull out and laugh at later.

Thus robed, and keeping silent, they entered the Sand People's territory. It was messy, Aithne noted. Bones and scrap heaps of Czerka machines lay around here and there. A small herd of bantha provided the pungent scent wafting on the northerly wind. Aithne curled her lip in disgust behind her sacred Sand People warrior mask. The party picked their way through the mines and rubble towards the cloth walls of the Sand People's village. Things were going quite well until they entered the Enclave. They practically ran into a big warrior. They heard him sniff, and there was an outcry of surprise Aithne did not understand, but took to mean they were discovered.

"Interjection:" HK-47 interjected. "One moment…I believe I understood that, master. It may not have been his intention, but he did actually communicate something."

"Quickly," Aithne hissed to the droid. "Tell him we are not a threat!"

The assassin made some growls and wails in his throat, and the Sand People warrior looked confusedly at him, before making a noise in reply.

"Result:" Aytchkay announced. "I believe I have succeeded in confusing him, master. We have shown an interest not common among outsiders."

Mission drew a little closer to Aithne's side. Aithne's voice rang out clearly. "Apologize for being here," she instructed HK-47. "Say we want peace."

Aytchkay translated, and the warrior replied. "Translation:" came HK-47 again. "He is expressing disbelief…as am I…but his duty requires that he report to the Chieftain. Extrapolation: It would seem that we are at least worthy of curiosity, for the moment. I would much rather this get bloody, master, but it is your call."

"Yes it is," Aithne told him, as three Sand People forcibly removed her, Mission's, and Bastila's robes. The change was rough, but not painful. They were escorted to the Chieftain, and Aithne continued to talk, voice firm, to reassure her comrades. "And I'd much rather find Griff and mess with Czerka."

In no time at all they stood before a bent Sand Person, in slightly darker robes than the others. Aithne took this to be their chieftain. He hollered at them in his own tongue, and HK-47 translated.

"Translation: I can translate with some degree of accuracy that he is demanding to know why he should let us survive this encounter, master."

Mission gulped. Aithne looked straight at the Chieftain, unflinching, and instructed HK-47. "Tell him that we don't want to fight. Tell him we want a peaceful solution."

After Aytchkay had done this, the Chieftain was silent for a moment. Then he spoke, telling Aithne that he didn't believe her, that her kind had tainted the land. However, he was willing to accept a proof of good faith. If Aithne would make a contribution to his people, showing she was not a threat, he might be willing to reduce attacks on the Czerka.

"Shall I blast him now, master?" Aytchkay wanted to know.

"There is to be no blasting, Aytchkay," Aithne reminded him. "Ask him what he wants."

Apparently, the chieftain was about to move his people and wanted water supplies. If Aithne could acquire him moisture vaporators from the Czerka, he would reduce his attacks.

Aithne grinned. "Take Czerka supplies to bribe their enemies to _reduce_ attacks on them? I like it. Tell him we'll get them," she told HK-47. Mission began to relax.

Aytchkay translated. He looked annoyed when the Chieftain gave his reply. "Translation:" he said finally. "Hmph. He does not believe you, master. We will only be allowed to reenter the Enclave when we have the vaporators with us. We are to be escorted outside. He will wait, but he doesn't believe we are coming back."

"Doesn't he?" Aithne said. "We'll show him!"

It was just lunch time when Aithne arrived back in Anchorhead with the others. They grabbed a quick bite at a fast food restaurant, and then were off to Czerka. The manager of the supply store, a Rodian named Greeta, turned out to be a good guy. He was an honest one trying to make a living, and not overly fond of Czerka. It took her a few minutes, but Aithne was able to talk him into giving a pair of moisture converters away for practically nothing. The machines were rather bulky. Aithne wanted to carry them both, but this proved to be impossible. To her surprise, Bastila volunteered to carry the other. When Aithne looked at her in question, she glared.

"What, Aithne? Am I not allowed to dislike the Czerka as much as you and Zaalbar? Am I not allowed to wish them a mischief?"

Mission snickered. Aithne winced. "You are, but you have to promise not to say that again. I swear, Bastila, the way you talk sometimes! You're one of the most powerful Jedi out there. You're feared and respected throughout the galaxy. You can't _say_ things like "wish them a mischief" and "festivities". It's just not done, and besides, it makes me look bad."

Mission made a face, then lost control and burst out laughing. Aithne had imitated Bastila flawlessly while quoting her, and the sentiment was just too ridiculous for the teenager. Bastila colored slightly, then turned her nose up, and the group began to trek across the desert again.

A guard was posted outside of the Enclave when Aithne and her party arrived, huffing and puffing from the weight of the vaporators. They were escorted inside. The Chieftain was surprised and mistrustful to see they'd returned, but he was grateful as well. He granted Aithne his Chieftain's gaffi to tuck into her pack instead of the vaporators, which was much lighter and would make her money besides. He promised to reduce the attacks, and also granted them the right to explore the Enclave.

Aithne, through HK-47, had a brief conversation with the Chieftain, in which he revealed a few vital pieces of information. First, he knew the location of the Star Map. He said it was located in the cave of a large krayt dragon, the only one in the area, to the east not far from their current location. They could reach the place that afternoon if they hurried.

Aithne struggled to keep her face blank at the frightful convenience of it all. To be able to retrieve the Star Map and Bastila's father's holocron that day was more than she had hoped for. There was only the small matter of the dragon, the largest, most dangerous predator of the desert.

The final bit of information they gathered from talking with the Sand People Chieftain was that they indeed had Mission's brother Griff. And they, apparently, were as disgusted with him as the rest of the galaxy.

"By his very presence, this Griff defiles their home and land," Aytchkay translated for the Chieftain. "He is without any semblance of usefulness to them."

Mission nodded ruefully. "Yup. That would be Griff."

"Extrapolation:" HK-47 extrapolated, "I would assume we are free to take him. It is doubtful they will even waste the effort to kill him. Perhaps we could do it, master?" he asked, but he did not sound very hopeful.

"Not a chance, Aytchkay," Aithne said, quivering with excitement at having accomplished so much. "Tell him farewell, for now."

Griff wasn't hard to find. He was in a room with the skeletal corpse of what must have been a previous Sand People captive. The minute he saw Aithne, he put on an important, dignified face.

"Hello!" he said in a voice that Aithne supposed he thought was charming. "I'm a high ranking executive of the Czerka Corporation. Eh…there's a big reward if you take me back to Anchorhead."

Aithne crossed her arms, unimpressed. "You're Griff Vao," she said flatly. "You're a petty criminal and a liar. Czerka gave up the hunt for you days ago. I'm Aithne Morrigan, and I'm here to save your sorry butt anyway. You know my friend," she added, looking away from Griff's bemused expression to step aside for Mission.

Mission darted forward, and Griff's mouth fell open. "I..do," he gasped.

"Hey, Griff, don't look so stupid," Mission said playfully. "You recognize me. It's Mission!"

Griff finally managed to pull himself together, and began smiling like the sun. "Mission! Is it really you? I heard Taris was destroyed! I thought you were dead! Joy of joys, my little sister is alive!"

Aithne would say one thing for him. The scoundrel was happy to see Mission, even if he'd abandoned her in the first place.

"I came to find you, Griff," Mission said, but now she was frowning. "I have to ask you something. It's important. I ran into Lena. She said…she said it was your idea to leave me back there. It's not true, is it?"

Griff shuffled in the sand, looking anywhere but at his sister's earnest face. Any liking Aithne had begun to feel for him upon his reception of his sister fled. "Ah, well," he said. "There's the truth, and then there's the _truth_, you know? I always meant to go back to Taris, sis. Just as soon as I had the credits to pay off my debts. But credits have been hard to come by."

Mission's face hardened. "You mean it's true?" she pressed. "It was your idea to leave me there? I'm your sister- how could you abandon me like that?"

Griff tried to reason with her. "C'mon, sis. You didn't need me to look after you anymore. You may have been young, but you knew how to take care of yourself. Besides, you're here now- everything worked out fine."

Mission was having none of it. She crossed her arms. "That's it?" she asked. "Three years, and that's all you have to say to me after abandoning me on Taris?"

Griff shrugged. "Well, that and…uh…could you please get me out of here? You've got tough looking friends there." He glanced over at Aithne. "Anna, was it?"

"Aithne," snapped the same. "And I'd already negotiated for your release. Go to Anchorhead. I'm not taking you. You wouldn't take _her_. Bastila?"

Bastila was a page ahead of her. The Jedi tossed a simple Shock Stick at him. "For defense," Aithne said.

"Yeah," Mission said. "You can find your way, right?" Her tone was sullen, and she scowled at him. When Griff made no move to go, she spread her arms. "What? Is there something else?"

"Uh…" Griff said, "Well…thanks…and uh…you look like you're doing well. Nice fancy blasters, and that's high quality armor. You're pretty well off financially now. Say…um…could you spare a few credits to get back on my feet?"

Mission stared at him for five full seconds before replying. "You…you're hitting me up for credits? I don't believe this," she raged. "Lena was right about you, Griff! We should've just left you to the Sand People. Don't talk to me anymore- ever!" She stalked out of the enclosure, still fuming, presumably to wait outside.

"Huh," Griff said. "That didn't go well. Sis was always a little too fiery for her own good. She'll cool down in time."

"She shouldn't!" muttered Aithne.

"Ah…she'll be okay," Griff said positively. "We've had our fights before. Too bad, though. I could really have used a helping hand right now. You may have saved my life, but I don't have a single credit to my name."

"I wouldn't take it if you did," Aithne said disdainfully.

Griff took no notice of her tone. "Say," he plunged on shamelessly. "You wouldn't be able to spare me some credits? Just till I get back on my feet, you know?"

Aithne considered. Ungraciously, she got out her wallet, explaining. "I wouldn't, but you're right that Mission will regret losing her temper. So I'll give you fifty credits. Invest it. Get a room, maybe. Look for a job you'll actually work."

"That's it, huh?" Griff grumbled. "Oh, figured you would be able to spare a bit more than that, but, you know, I'll take whatever I can get. Don't worry about me…I've already got a job waiting for me. Greeta, the manager over at the Czerka supply shop, said I could come work for him if I ever get tired of the mines. I think I'll go take him up on his offer. You know," he said, a speculative look in his eyes. "Maybe there's something else you can help me with. I need to talk to a guy first and set up the details, but if you're interested in a job come see me in Greeta's shop." He walked out, waved at Mission, and called, "Goodbye, Mission! Uh…I'm glad you're not dead."

Mission sniffed.

Aithne walked out to join Mission, followed by the others.

"How're you feeling, Mish?" she said in a low tone, heading towards the Enclave exit in front of the party.

"Like those walls aren't nearly thick enough," the teenager growled. "I don't know," she relaxed. "I'm happy Griff's alive, but I'm mad at him right now. And I don't know what kind of job he's got for you, but I don't trust him. It's probably just another scam!"

"Mission, I've no intention of taking part in one of his scams," Aithne reassured the girl. "We'll go by once before we leave the planet to say good-bye, if you'd like." Too late, she realized Mission might not want to go with her. "You _are_ coming, aren't you?"

Mission gave her a look of the utmost scorn. "Like I'd give up on you now to stay with my worthless brother? Nah, I'm coming with. You're stuck with me."

Aithne smiled. "Good. And Mission, I'm sorry about how it turned out."

Mission nodded, and was silent.


	29. Beasts and Brothers

**Disclaimer: No, even the awesomeness that is the krayt dragon is not mine. 'Tis the price of writing fanfiction, darlings.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Twenty-Nine<p>

As the Chieftain of the Sand People had promised, Aithne and the others didn't have to go too far east to find the cave of the krayt dragon. It was an enormous cave going into the side of a monstrous dune a ways behind a bantha herd. This was not surprising. What was surprising were the speeders parked out front.

"Looks like we've got company," she said to the others. As they neared the cave, Aithne could just barely make out the outline of an enormous beast inside the cave. The two persons in front were easier to distinguish. Komad Fortuna was the Twi'lek nearer Aithne, the most famed hunter in Anchorhead, according to the sources down at the lodge. His friend was unknown to her.

The man seemed to say something to Komad, but Aithne was not near enough to hear what. Then, to her horror, he stood up from his position leaning on the speeder,removed a giant of a gun from a shoulder holster and strode into the dragon's lair.

The cave was too dim for Aithne to make out exactly what happened to the poor hunter. But she could easily hear the horrified scream as he met his end.

Aithne was now near enough for Komad to see her. She hailed him and walked over. He shuddered. /I did warn him,/ he said regretfully in Huttese. /You are Aithne Morrigan, correct? You joined the lodge the other day. I am Komad Fortuna./

/I know who you are,/ Aithne replied. /_Everyone _knows who you are. But what brings you here?/

Komad proceeded to tell Aithne that this particular krayt dragon had not been in the vicinity long. As it was, it was a great deal to near to Anchorhead. He had come to dispatch it. He'd set mines around the beast's lair, but in order to kill it, he needed to get it to emerge. He had a plan for that, too, but he didn't have the resources to carry it out.

/What is this plan?/ Aithne asked him politely. /Perhaps I could help. I'm very interested in getting inside that cave, and the prospects of doing so now are…not good./

Komad looked at the cave with misgiving. /No./ He explained that krayt dragons were passionately fond of bantha meat, and if he could somehow lure one of the nearby bantha to the location, he would bet that the creature they hunted would emerge. However, in order to do this, he needed bantha fodder, of which he had none.

/I do,/ Mission spoke up unexpectedly. /I lifted some from the Sand People Enclave to feed to the gizka,/ she explained to Aithne in flawless Huttese. Aithne shook her head. Of course Mission would know Huttese. Next to Basic, it was the most common language in the galaxy. She'd have to know Huttese to survive in the Tarisian Undercity.

Mission fished some of the fodder out of her pack. Komad explained that the tribe of Sand People that owned the herd of bantha would resent her interference, a different and fiercer tribe than Aithne had dealt with just earlier that day.

/That's no problem,/ Aithne said, smiling. /I have a friend that will be delighted with the target practice./

"Isn't that right, Aytchkay?" she asked him.

"Answer: Oh goody, master!" said HK-47. "Shall I shoot the Sand People meatbags?"

Aithne nodded. "Cover Mission," she instructed. "Pick off the Sand People if they try to attack her."

Aytchkay nodded, focusing, as Mission walked out to a bantha. The war-cries were loud and immediate as Mission approached the great, gentle grazer. Their cries of surprise as HK-47 sniped them off quickly and efficiently before they got within fifty yards of the bantha and the Twi'lek were equally loud.

"Superbly done," Aithne complimented her droid.

"Answer: But of course, master. I am a professional, you know."

Mission led the bantha up to the cave, and gave it the fodder. They had not long to wait before the dragon emerged, drawn by the scent of the bantha.

It poked its white, scaly nose out into the dying sunlight, and its nostrils flared. Yellowed, cracked teeth hung down from its snout, as long as Aithne's forearm. It stretched one wickedly clawed stubby leg out of its lair, then another. And then the first mine went off.

The krayt dragon roared in pain, tossing its giant horned head. Its yellow eyes looked left and right for the perpetrator of this outrage. It spied the small group of hunters with a wily roll of its left eye. It recognized the puny bipeds. These that smelled of old rocks and sweat and fear. The great beast recognized the metal barrels pointed at it, shaking now as the small blue one quaked before his might. They had caused it pain before, those metal barrels. Infuriated, the dragon made for the hunters now.

Another mine went off, and another. The dragon writhed, and kept coming, determined to avenge its pain even as scale after scale blew off, and finally as its organs began to fail. Surely, surely, they would pay.

And it was over. Aithne stepped forward two steps and kicked the dead creature in its bloody nose. Komad looked at it sadly.

/It was a magnificent beast,/ he lamented. /It is a shame we could not destroy it with more honor. But for your help, Aithne Morrigan, I thank you./

/You're welcome,/ Aithne replied solemnly. /It had to be done./

/True, but it hurts my heart,/ Komad said, and sadly, the hunter took to his speeder and departed.

"That was anticlimactic, was it not?" Bastila said coolly, gazing at the dragon with critical blue eyes.

"What," Aithne said. "Would you rather we had to fight it a day and a night before we find the Star Map and your father's holocron? C'mon, let's go."

The cave had obviously not been used by the dragon for long, but traces of its presence were still visible. Chewed corpses lay here and there, and a metallic odor made Aithne's nose itch. Bastila ran to the far end of the cave. The Star Map was there. Aithne saw it, but it was not the map that Bastila knelt down beside. She clutched a tattered red equipment pack to her breast tightly, and a single tear tracked its way through the dirt on her face. With trembling fingers she reached inside it, and pulled out the holocron of her father.

"Are you going to give it to her?" Aithne asked quietly.

"I don't know," she said, about as upset as Aithne had ever seen her. "I don't know." She held the holocron so tightly her knuckles turned white, and Aithne and Mission turned away from the Jedi girl's pain.

The Star Map, as usual, opened with a touch, and Aithne downloaded the coordinates it provided onto the customary datapad.

"The dragon probably stayed here because of the Dark Side energy in the Star Map," Bastila speculated. Her eyes were still red, but her voice was normal now, and testing her emotions, Aithne found they had calmed. "May I see the map?"

Aithne handed it over, and Bastila perused it. "Quite a few new coordinates," she said. "But we're still missing the last few vital directions to the Star Forge. We'll have to continue on to Manaan."

"Can we leave tomorrow then?" Mission asked. "This planet's kind of boring, and I have sand…everywhere."

Aithne nodded, glancing at Bastila. "We'll leave tomorrow afternoon. You'll want to say good-bye to Griff, useless or not, and I have some business with Czerka. Bastila has business in the cantina."

"Interjection:" Aytchkay put in. "Master, I do not wish to alarm you, but three organic meatbags have arrived since we entered this cave. They are armed, and are standing in a pattern that suggests they lie in wait for us."

"Someone's after us," Aithne sighed. "No, Aytchkay, I'm not alarmed. What else can you tell me about them?"

"Answer:" HK-47 answered. "The three meatbags appear to be Dark Jedi, master. Shall I kill them for you?"

Aithne shook her head. "Not for me, Aytchkay. This time, I'll help."

"Me, too," Mission said, shielding and drawing her blasters.

Bastila sighed. "Oh, if we must," she said wearily.

The three Dark Jedi were impressive looking, Aithne thought as she and her companions squared off against them at the cave entrance. They were better robed than the idiots on Korriban. The big, bald, goateed one in the center had a very self-important air to him.

"You're not Malak's usual assassins," she observed cordially.

"I should think not," the big one said haughtily. "I am most pleased to have this opportunity to kill you myself. It was good of my master to give it to me."

"Your master?" Aithne inquired politely, activating her lightsabers.

"Darth Malak," the black robed bald man said, smiling unpleasantly. "I am Darth Bandon, his own apprentice."

Aithne blinked. Wow. They really _were_ irking Malak if he was sending his own apprentice after them. Did he need Bastila so badly then, when she wasn't even actively aiding the Republic Fleet with her Battle Meditation?

Mission sniffed. "You're Malak's apprentice?" she said. "Can't say I'm impressed."

Aithne grinned at the girl.

"Your words do not intimidate me," Bandon declared pompously. "Prepare to die."

"Query:" HK-47 asked. "Shall we incinerate the pompous meatbag, master?"

Aithne gripped her lightsabers more tightly and smiled, not taking her eyes of Bandon for a second, and was gratified to see him shift nervously, and a bit mystified when he squared off opposite _her_. "Oh yes, Aytchkay," she murmured to the assassin droid, "I think we shall."

For the apprentice to the Sith Lord himself, Bandon's friends weren't so tough. Mission and HK-47 together had the two nameless Dark Jedi down in thirty seconds flat. But Darth Bandon was a bit more of a problem. He had this habit of calling down lightning from the darkening sky to give himself strength every time they thought they had him. Every time it hit, Aithne, Mission, and Bastila received a nasty sting. But his saber work was terrible, and Aithne and Bastila were able to sneak in under his guard every few seconds and deal him wounds. When Aytchkay and Mission began throwing random shots in between the twirling red, yellow, and green blades, it didn't take long before Darth Bandon was losing blood faster than he could heal, and after that, it took only a minute or so to bring him down.

Aithne looked down at him quizzically. "You'd think Malak would pick a better apprentice," she said, nudging Bandon's corpse with her toe.

"Perhaps, what with the Sith being as they are, he feared a talented one might overthrow him," Bastila suggested.

Aithne nodded. "Makes sense. I ran into plenty of that on Korriban. Apprentices trying to overthrow masters, that is." Bastila shuddered.

"Hey," Mission said. "They brought speeders!" She jumped on the back of one of the three speeders. "Great. We can be back in time for dinner." She shivered. The sun was setting, and the desert was beginning to cool. "I call first shower!" And with that, she revved the engine, and was off.

"Oh, no she doesn't," said Bastila in a growl. In a flash of Jedi speed, she hopped aboard the second speeder and was after Mission.

"C'mon Aytchkay," Aithne called. HK-47 climbed on behind her on the last speeder. "Guys!" she yelled after the retreating backs of her former friends. "Wait for me!"

Aithne did end up with the last shower, unfortunately. Bastila put on a burst of Force Speed when she stopped and beat Mission to the fresher, but Mission was not to be cheated twice. Aithne yielded, but no one would say she did so gracefully.

Dinner was a merry affair, especially when Aithne informed the crew they'd be leaving for Manaan the next afternoon. No one was overly fond of Tatooine.

Aithne did not stay awake for long after dinner. She'd run up and down across the desert all day, after all. She was bone weary, and even after an hour long shower, mostly cold, she was sure that some sand remained on her body. Aithne shuddered. Sand. If she never saw it again it would be too soon.

Aithne awoke the next day rather soberly. Helena and Griff had to be dealt with today. There was cheating Czerka to look forward to, of course, but before Aithne allowed herself to play she would take care of business. She ate breakfast with Jolee and Juhani, hugged Carth, and collected Mission and Bastila. As the day was to be made up of civil calls to people that spoke Basic, Aytchkay remained on the ship.

"We'll go see your mother, first," Aithne said to Bastila in an undertone as they strode through the town towards the cantina.

"Mission?" Aithne directed towards the young Twi'lek. Mission looked at her curiously.

"What you say you find some poor idiot and play them a couple hands of Pazaak?" she suggested.

Mission grinned from ear to ear. "You got it," she said, her deck already in her hand.

Mission was hitting up possible Pazaak sharks the instant they entered the cantina. As it was still quite early in the morning, the cantina was clear, and even rather clean, except for a few all day haunters. The cloud of smoke that would develop by midday was absent, and the music could be clearly heard, unsullied by chatter and bar fights.

Helena was at the same corner table they'd met her at to begin with. Aithne wondered if she'd even moved. Her head came up, and her chin came out, and Bastila, beside Aithne, stiffened. Aithne groaned. Bastila had had the best of intentions before setting foot into the cantina. Would she be able to live up to them faced with her mother at her most defensive?

"Back already?" Helena asked, and Aithne winced at her acid tone. The woman had her shield up and her sword out, metaphorically speaking. She expected Bastila to attack, and was determined not to be the one hurt in the end. "Have you even looked for the holocron yet?"

Bastila fiddled with the holocron in her pocket, looking unsure. "I have the holocron, Mother," she said softly, though not with malice. "I'm just not sure I want to give it to you."

Aithne wasn't sure if Helena understood what Bastila meant, that she had loved her father, too, and might like to keep the holocron. At Helena's miffed expression, Aithne was willing to bet that she didn't. "And why not?" Bastila's mother demanded. "Would you deny me even that?"

Aithne closed her eyes. _That's it._ And it was. Bastila's eyes flashed. "I've never denied you anything, Mother!" she snapped. "You may," she turned to Aithne furiously. "You may _both_ think I don't remember what it was like before I left for the Order, but I do!" she declared. "You were the one who pushed Father to go on one treasure hunt after the other. You loved living in wealth. You think I don't remember the fights? You were eager to send me to the Jedi, even though I didn't want to go…yes, Aithne, _I_ did _not_ want to go! You took Father away from me and now this holocron is all I have of him!"

At the end of her tirade, Bastila's shoulders were shaking, and she was breathing hard. She tossed her head and glared at Helena, and her posture dared Aithne to defy her.

"Fool girl," Helena chided. "You have a strange way of remembering things. That wasn't…"

"No!" Bastila cried. "I don't wish to argue with you," she said, more calmly. "I have…I have to go."

Aithne grabbed her wrist. "Bastila," she said. "Do you really need that holocron?"

"I…" Bastila stammered, then looked down. "Perhaps not," she admitted. "I can remember my father well enough. But I ask you: why should she have it?" When she mentioned her mother her voice was venomous. Helena flinched.

"You _know_ why," Aithne hissed, not giving an inch.

Bastila looked at Aithne stubbornly. "I know you _said_ she's sick," she said carefully. "Does she seem sick to you?"

Aithne looked at Helena's pale face and thin arms, and the look of pain on her face. "Maybe you should give her a break," she suggested again.

Bastila sighed, caving. "You're right. It shames me, but I just…I find it difficult to let go of the past." Bravely she turned to face Helena. "I…I'm sorry, Mother."

Helena's reaction took Bastila, but not Aithne, completely by surprise. The older woman's face completely softened, and she motioned for Bastila to sit down at her table. Completely disarmed, Bastila did so. "I was hard on you, dear," Helena admitted. "I wasn't a very good mother to you, I know. Your father loved you so. He wanted you to be just like him…he wanted to take you on his hunts, but I said they were too dangerous."

"Treasure hunting is dangerous," remarked Aithne off-handedly.

"I always tried to keep him from the dangerous ones," Helena protested, "but he would have none of it."

Gently, Aithne told Bastila, "Probably the fights you remember, Bastila."

Wordlessly, Bastila nodded. Helena continued. "It was a reckless life we led, always moving…I didn't want that for you."

"And that's why you gave me to the Order?" Bastila asked.

Helena sighed. "What do your father and I have to show for all those years of hunting?" She asked, then answered her own question. "Nothing. That was no life for anyone, especially not someone as gifted as you. Your father…he spent all his last years trying to pay for my treatments. That's why he went for the pearls. I begged him not to, but…"

"Treatments?" Bastila asked, looking back at Aithne. Aithne understood. She had hoped also, by fighting with Helena, to deny that her mother was dying. Now, she was forced to believe it.

Helena nodded. "I'm dying, Bastila. It's been a long time in the coming, and there's really nothing that can be done anymore. I told your father to let me go, but you know how he was." She smiled at Bastila fondly, touching her daughter's cheek with a weathered, fading hand. "Stubborn. Like you."

"I'm so sorry, Mother," Bastila murmured. "I don't know what to say."

All of a sudden Aithne felt horribly out of place. She faded into the background, laughing in amusement as she watched a grizzled old man throw his playing deck at Mission. She said nothing, merely smiled, and scooped up a pile of credits on the table. Over in the corner, Bastila and her Mother continued to talk in relative privacy. Aithne saw Bastila reach into her pack and give Helena something.

Mission strolled over to join her, whistling merrily. "Not many people here," she reported. "The ones that are I've cleaned out." She snorted. "You'd think people would be smart enough to think that a kid playing for those kind of stakes knows what she's doing, but all they see is a stupid kid."

Aithne smiled at her. "Lucky for you," she teased. "You won't be able to use that crutch much longer. People will start taking you seriously. You'll be broke!"

Helena was beckoning her now, though, and Mission, too. Aithne went over to Bastila and her mother.

"You, Aithne, was it?" Helena said abruptly. "I hear the two of you are off to save the galaxy. You take care of my daughter, you hear me? And you, girl," she said to Mission. "You learn from them both. These are good young women."

Mission nodded with uncustomary solemnity. "You're Bastila's mom?"

Helena nodded. Mission smiled at her. "I'll do it!" Helena looked at Aithne.

Aithne laughed. "Mrs. Shan, I save your daughter's butt on a regular basis. Sometimes she saves mine. But for you I promise that I'll look at her stubborn, prissy face three more times a day."

Bastila gasped indignantly, but Helena laughed. "I like her," she informed Bastila. Reluctantly, Bastila smiled. "Good," Helena told Aithne. "I'll feel a lot better knowing she has a friend like you."

"I feel a lot better because she's my friend," Aithne told Helena honestly, and Bastila smiled. Helena fairly glowed with pride.

"Farewell, Mother. Remember what I told you," Bastila said, gripping her mother's hand tight.

"Farewell, Bastila," Helena said. "Stay safe."

Bastila left the cantina smiling, and when Aithne peeked into her head, she felt peace.

Griff greeted Aithne, not Mission, when the three of them first stepped into the Czerka supply store.

"Ah, just the person I was hoping to see," he said slimily.

Mission snorted. "Save it, Griff," she said. "I just came to say good-bye. I want no part in whatever you're involved in. "

"Ok, sis," Griff said, taking a step back. "I see you're still mad. Fair enough. I don't think you could help me with this anyway. It's…uh…more of a job for your friend here."

Aithne crossed her arms. "What are you into now?" she asked impatiently.

Griff smiled. He explained that with Taris in ruins, he'd had the idea to market Tarisian Ale. Now a rarity, the product would sell hugely. He'd approached the Exchange, and they'd agreed that if he made them a sample, they could synthesize it. Unfortunately, to make the Tarisian Ale, he needed a tach gland. The tach was only to be found in the forests of Kashyyyk. In fact, it was the annoying little monkey creature that had made all that noise in the Upper Shadowlands. He would pay good money, once he got it, if Aithne would get one of those glands for him.

Mission was furious. "Griff, are you blind?" she asked, arms akimbo. "Can't you see you're talking to a Jedi? We're out here trying to save the galaxy! We can't waste time on this!"

Griff looked stricken. "Please," he said, voice high. "You have to help me! I…I promised this guy from the Exchange a sample of Tarisian Ale! If I don't come through he's gonna break my legs…or worse!"

Aithne bit her tongue to keep from shouting, but Mission had gone pale. Finally, in an even, measured tone, Aithne spoke. "What kind of idiot are you, Vao? Where do you get off promising things you can't deliver to people who will kill you if you don't?" Seeing he was about to protest, she held up a hand. "Just…shut up. Mission? You're carrying the medical pack, right?"

Mission, not comprehending, said "Yeah?" in an inquiring way.

"Look around in it," she instructed. "We picked a couple tach glands off some Czerka poachers last time on Kashyyyk."

"Oh, of course," Bastila said, recalling.

Mission looted around in the pack for a moment. Then her head emerged, and in her fist she held the tach gland. "Here's the tach gland, Griff," she said, holding it out to her brother. "Take it."

Griff's eyes lit up. "Oh, come to papa, you sweet simian organ!" he crowed. "Thanks, Mission, you won't regret helping me out with this!"

Mission looked at him, no longer angry, but oddly pitying. "Please, Griff," she said. "Let this be the last time. No more cons. No more scams. No more schemes. That's all I ask."

Griff smiled at her. It wasn't very convincing. "Hey, sis, no more worries. I've turned over a new leaf. From now on I'm going to stay out of trouble and do things right. As a matter of fact, once we get this Tarisian Ale synthesized, we'll be looking for investors." He looked Aithne up and down. "If you gave me a couple hundred…"

"No," Aithne said, cutting him off. "Vao, I don't want to invest in your as yet nonexistent Tarisian Ale venture. We've saved your butt twice now. You're good to start again. So there'll be no more credits. No more helping hands. And no investments. And, not that I think you would, but don't worry about Mission."

Mission, rather more forgiving, stretched a conciliatory hand out to her brother. "I'm stayin' with Aithne, Griff," she told him. "We're on a mission."

"We'll take care of her," Aithne told Griff Vao. "You…you take care of yourself."

Strangely, Griff nodded, and kept his words brief. "I…I understand. Mission? I'm sorry."

She smiled at him, a little sadly. "I'll see you around, Griff. Goodbye."

Just outside the shop, Aithne pulled Mission aside. "Mish? Will you be alright?"

Mission hesitated. "I…I want to thank you for helping me with my brother," she said finally. "You did a lot for Griff. More than most people would have. I'm not sure if it'll make any difference in the end," she admitted. "That 'sorry'? I have a feeling that's the last I'll see of him for a while. At least I know we tried to help him."

Aithne gripped the girl's shoulder. "Don't give up on him, though. He could still change. At least he stopped con-talking me in the end."

Mission chuckled a little. "I know people can change no matter how bad they were," she said. "But I'm not holding my breath. None of us is perfect, but I've come to realize Griff is a little less perfect than most. My brother is what he is, but I've learned to deal with that. I'll never forget that he looked after me when I was just a kid, but I don't feel like I owe him anything anymore."

Aithne looked into Mission's face. "So you're okay?"

Mission nodded. "I've made my peace with Griff and what he means to me," she said. "If he ever shows up again, I'll deal with him, but I'm not going to dwell on my brother anymore. It's time to move forward!" The last sentence was said with such Mission-like enthusiasm, that Aithne laughed in relief.

"Good!" she cried. "I'm with you every step of the way, Mish!"

And Mission looked up at her. "I know," she said, quite seriously.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, yeah. Not a hugely important chapter from my standpoint, but it is what it is just as surely as Griff's the scum of the earth. But I hoped you liked it! And next chapter, BIG THINGS HAPPEN. Like Admiral of the Sith fleet capturing the **_**Ebon Hawk**_** big. So stay with me, readers! And don't forget to press that little blue button on your way out!**

**May the Force Be With You,**

**LMSharp**


	30. Captured!

**Disclaimer: KotOR isn't mine.**

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><p>Chapter Thirty<p>

Aithne nodded at Bastila to rejoin them, and the three of them set out for the Czerka Offices. Aithne hummed a little tune to herself, every so often skipping a step or two.

"Um…you're really excited about cheating Czerka, aren't you?" Mission asked amusedly after the third time Aithne waved crazily at a complete stranger on the street.

"Well, yeah," Aithne admitted. "They're a huge, slaving, corrupted intergalactic monstrosity of a company that deals with the Sith, and I love to cross them any time I can, but after we do so this time we get to leave Tatooine! _No more sand_, just think of it!"

Bastila broke out into a smile similar to Aithne's then. Aithne continued.

"And Bastila's made things right with her mother, Dustil's safe on Telos, you're fine with the Griff situation, I have all my friends with me, and every step I take I get closer to taking Jawless Incompetent out of his usurped position of King of the Universe, and handing it back to the bumbling but lovable children we call the Republic Senate."

Aithne skipped again, and this time Bastila laughed. "When you put it that way, it does seem a lovely morning."

Mission grinned. "I suppose it ain't too bad," she agreed slyly. "But I don't think I'll be singing and dancing in the street any time soon. 'Course, I might feel differently if I was in loo-oove."

Aithne blushed to the roots of her unruly hair, which for once she had left down for the day. Mission giggled. "Aithne and Carth, sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S…"

"You know," interrupted Bastila. "If you really are serious about wishing to be treated and talked about like an adult, you might try acting like one."

Aithne opened the door for her friends and stared at Bastila as the younger Jedi walked primly inside.

"Why Bastila Shan! First you stop the lectures, now you're defending me from fifteen year old twits teasing me about my love life? You'd better stop now. Any more of this, and I might start taking you for a human being!"

Bastila glared. Then, she smiled. "You might not want to try me," she said mildly. "I'm sure I could think of much worse ways to frustrate you then Miss Preschool, here."

Mission looked at Bastila, respect in her face. Aithne released the door, tripping ahead. "Um…I'm going to talk to Madame Czerka Mind-Slave, now," she mumbled.

"Coward," Bastila said simply.

Aithne walked up to the Czerka Representative. The woman turned a bright, professional smile on her. Before she could start droning, Aithne held up a finger inquiringly.

"Hey, I have a sack load of Sand People sticks," she said. And indeed she'd picked up quite a few off of the bodies of the Sand People who had attacked her before the treaty. "You want them?"

She swung down the rough cloth sack she'd put them in. The woman looked down her nose at the clacking wood sound and the twenty-odd sticks in the back. "I see that," she said finally. "But do you have the all-important Chieftain's Gaffi? That was what you agreed to get for us."

Aithne looked at the woman pityingly. She crossed her arms and rocked back on her heels. "You know, it's not surprising you're stuck out here on Tatooine with that memory. You'd be useless with the contracts higher up." She studied her nails as the woman began to go red. "I never agreed to get the Chieftain's Gaffi. As I recall, you promised a bounty for each gaffi stick. The chieftain was extra. Your exact words were, 'I'll give a bonus for the chieftain's'. Contractually, I was never obliged to get it for you."

With every word, the woman looked more annoyed and chagrined. Aithne let the silence hang in the air for a minute, before unbuckling her pack and whisking out the Chieftain's Gaffi. "Fortunately, I do have the Chieftain's Gaffi, so you don't have to tell your boss you messed up and bribe someone else to go after the Sand People."

The Czerka rep didn't know what to say for a moment. Finally, she reached out, and took the stick with trembling fingers. "Well, that is a very big headache you have removed. I'm sure there are still Sand People out there, but they will be quieter now."

Aithne smiled politely. "No doubt," she said.

"I think I'll give you a bonus for this," the lady said, as if she were being very generous. "You've more than lived up to your side of the bargain. Czerka Corporation thanks you."

And she paid Aithne a rather pretty little sum. Aithne smiled as falsely as the Czerka representative herself and took the money. "No thank_ you_," she said. "Really, you're too kind."

Aithne bowed out and, together with Mission and Bastila, they headed back to the _Hawk_, wondering exactly when Czerka would find out that they'd been tricked.

When they arrived, Zaalbar and Teethree were loading the last of the supplies, and Carth was overseeing the fueling of the ship. From experience, Aithne knew that the _Hawk_ would be in space in about half an hour. Bastila went to the storage bay to help Juhani catalogue the new supplies, and Mission caught up with Zaalbar to tell him what had transpired. Aithne headed to the cockpit.

When Carth arrived, Aithne was staring at the map.

"There's just Manaan left," she told him quietly. "Just one Star Map. What comes after that, Carth?"

Carth shrugged. "I don't know any more than you do, beautiful."

Aithne shook her head. "The Jedi never told me what we were going to look for. What is the Star Forge, anyway? What are _we_ supposed to do it that could possibly stop Malak?" She stared at the little blue dot that was Manaan on the map, in awe of the presumption of the crew of the _Ebon Hawk_ yet again. They'd circled the galaxy looking for maps to who knew what, hoping somehow that they could defeat the greatest threat to galactic peace in the past fifty years.

Carth nodded in agreement. "It's…it's a mess. But we'll figure it out. We have our resources," he assured her.

He came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. "We've got Bastila on our ship, the key to the entire war effort. We've got Mission Vao, the cleverest little stealth and slice operative I've ever seen. We've got Zaalbar, crown prince of Rwookrrorro, wielding Bacca's Blade for us. We have Canderous Ordo, one of the best Mandalorian warriors there is, fighting alongside the Republic. We have T3-M4, our brave and efficient little astromech. We have Juhani, a great warrior and Jedi Knight. We have…we have a cranky, irritating old hermit that nevertheless has demonstrated himself to be a very wise man and a brave Jedi in the person of Jolee Bindo. We have…" he paused, and a bit of disgust entered his tone, "HK-47, a frankly frightening assassin droid with speech patterns that will annoy our enemies to death even before he gets out his rifle."

He rubbed Aithne's shoulders, laughing a little. "There's me, the most handsome pilot in the galaxy." He turned Aithne around to face him. "And then there's you," he said softly. "Aithne Morrigan. Possibly the most brilliant, compassionate, stubborn, and insane woman in the galaxy."

Aithne made a face at him, "I'm pretty, too," she said. Carth leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose.

"You're gorgeous," he corrected.

Aithne smiled. "Malak doesn't stand a chance," she whispered.

"That's more like it," Carth said, giving her a brief, hearty shake. "So, to Manaan?"

"To Manaan, Carth, if you're quite finished romancing Padawan Morrigan," Bastila said crisply, entering the cockpit.

Aithne turned red. Carth smiled. "For now," he answered Bastila impudently. The younger Jedi sniffed.

"If the Jedi Masters could see the pair of you," she began, then stopped. "Forgive me," she said. "Old habits die hard."

Aithne gripped the younger woman's shoulder. "Yes, but they _are_ dying. Bastila, you're growing up, and you won't be stodgy _or_ judgmental when you're done. In fact, I think you'll grow up to be the kind of Jedi Master that might have made me _volunteer _to join the Jedi."

"Really?" Bastila asked, looking over her shoulder at Aithne. Aithne was suddenly aware of how very far they'd come. She'd gone from hating this woman, from tormenting her at every opportunity and fantasizing about her dying crushed by thousands of copies of the Jedi Code, to sympathizing with her, and then to liking her. Now Aithne would say that Bastila was probably one of her closest friends, and Aithne could see that Bastila had gone from a total disdain for her to a deep liking and respect.

Aithne smiled fondly at the younger Jedi. "Yes," she said, and left it at that.

Carth spoke over the intercom, "Brace yourselves, kids, we're taking off."

And they did, Aithne clinging to the back of Carth's chair, laughing at the whoosh in her stomach as the soared out of the Tatooine atmosphere and up to the stars.

"We'll make the jump to hyperspace in half an hour," Carth related to the crew.

But they didn't. Because twenty-five minutes after the pilot said that, there came a sudden jolt that knocked Aithne off of her feet.

Alarms started ringing. "What's going on?" Aithne demanded.

Carth punched controls, trying to get the ship to moving again, but it had slowed, and was now moving backwards.

"Sith interdictor ship," he related over the intercom. "We're caught in the tractor beam."

"Do you recognize the ship?" Bastila asked hastily.

By the set of his jaw and the fire in his eyes, Aithne knew what Carth was going to say before he said it.

"It's the _Leviathan_," he told Bastila. "Saul Karath's vessel."

Aithne commandeered the intercom in one fluid movement. "Crew to the conference room," she said clearly. "Immediately."

Everyone was there in thirty seconds. Aithne motioned for silence in the hubbub.

"We are caught in the tractor beam of a ship belonging to Saul Karath," she said once everyone had hushed. "Admiral of the Sith Fleet. The ship is big, and probably is host to about thirty times the crew of this vessel. They're going to capture us. That's inevitable. If we don't escape, they will torture everyone for information, and give at least some of us over to Malak himself."

"You mean you and Bastila, and maybe Juhani," Canderous interjected pointedly. "The rest of us will either be forced into the Sith army or killed. It's conquest policy."

Mission began to tremble, and Aithne's lips tightened. "I don't intend to let any of that happen," she told the entire crew. "But if we're going to formulate an escape, now is our chance. We'll be boarded in about ten minutes."

"When we escape, if I get a chance to kill Saul, no one better get in my way," Carth growled.

Aithne glared at him. "Don't do anything stupid," she snapped at him. "All of us are at stake here."

"I'm not going to do anything stupid," Carth said. "But if…"

"_If_ we come into contact with Saul Karath," Aithne said, "and _if_ you get a chance to kill him _without _putting the crew or our mission into any more danger than it's in already, I won't hold you back."

Carth nodded tersely. "So how are we going to escape?" he asked.

"Maybe the Admiral doesn't know how many of us are on board," Bastila suggested. "One of us might have a chance to evade capture and stage a rescue."

"Every Sith in the fleet knows you, Carth, and I," Aithne said impatiently, thinking. "We'll all be watched too closely to blink. But one of the others…"

Aithne considered, looking over the crew. Every single one of them were proved soldiers by now. All of them had different abilities they could exploit in order to rescue the crew. But she needed someone she could trust with her life, and with everyone else's life. Someone who could escape and who would never give up until each and every one of the crew had been rescued. A staunch defender of their cause, but someone the Sith might overlook as a serious threat. There was only one person that she thought fit that bill.

Her eyes focused on that person. "Do you think you could escape the guards and rescue us?" she asked.

"I can, and I will. You can count on me!"

Aithne looked around. "Alright then," she said to the crew. "We don't want to make this too easy for them. Arm up. Fight them off. But not too hard. I want everyone alive when we get through this."

With that, Aithne headed to the entrance, lightsabers in hand. Bastila joined her right away. Soon nine crew members stood on the ramp of the _Ebon Hawk. _Carth stood on Aithne's right, fiddling with the safety on his blaster. Bastila stood on her left, eyes closed, clearing her mind before the onslaught. The ramp lowered.

Close to fifty armed Sith soldiers stood in the hangar, surrounding the entrance. Aithne looked at them calmly.

"Surrender," called one in red armor near the head of the group.

Aithne twisted her mouth into something resembling a smile. "Do you _know_ who we are?" she asked the group as a whole. "Now!" All at once the crew began to fight. Those with blasters fired. Those with melee weapons jumped into the fray.

It was short. Aithne had known it would be. She saw Zaalbar go down on her left, forced to submit to shackles. She saw Bastila taken from behind somewhere up ahead. And then a gauntleted hand hit her on the side of her head, and she blacked out.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yes, well, they had to get captured eventually, didn't they? Coming up, things only get darker for the crew, as the despicable Saul Karath tortures Aithne, Bastila, and Carth for information, and for some reason seems to think Aithne likely to switch her loyalties. Keep reading, and I hope you enjoy. But whether you did or not, I'm going to ask you to hit that button there and tell me what you thought. **

**-LMSharp**


	31. In the Belly of the Beast

**Disclaimer: I did not invent the Star Wars universe or KotOR, and I garner no profit from this tale.**

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><p>Chapter Thirty-One<p>

When Aithne awoke she felt cold and cramped. She stood up, and looked around and down. She blushed. She was in her underwear. She wished she knew which Sith had stripped her so that she could kill him personally when she got free.

She was unarmed and mostly naked in a force torture cage. There were Sith stationed here and there around the room, and directly in front of her Aithne beheld the interrogation panel. Fortunately for now it was unmanned.

"You're up," came Bastila's voice from her right. Aithne looked over and saw Carth and Bastila standing in force cages of their own.

"Yeah. Where are the others?'

"I heard a Sith say to another that the others are in general confinement," Carth told her. "They're all alive, though, and they're together."

"Hey! You!" called a Sith to them harshly. "Silence!"

Aithne crossed her arms and glared at him. "What? Like we could plot or anything here? We're prisoners, idiot. You can hear everything we're saying. Let us talk. It's really the least you can do."

"You little…" the Sith began. "Why I ought to…"

Aithne rolled her eyes. "But you can't," she interrupted. She jerked her thumb at Bastila. "She's too important, and the admiral doesn't know what we know. He'll want to torture or kill us himself. I suggest you suck it up and get comfortable. You don't have the authority to do anything to us."

The Sith's face contorted with rage. Aithne rocked back on her heels and examined her nails, a bored expression on her face. Truth be told, she was terrified, but the Sith didn't need to know that. And with any luck at all, they'd be rescued soon.

Carth and Bastila stared at her, and Aithne hoped that they felt a little braver. She turned a dizzying smile on Carth. "Now. Mr. Onasi, you were saying?"

"Just…the crew's alright," Carth managed.

"For now," came a new voice, cold and crisp. Aithne shivered. A new man had walked into the room. He was dressed in an ordinary Sith-issue uniform, but Aithne could tell by his decorations and bearing that this was Admiral Karath. He was maybe Canderous' age, with neat, closely cropped gray hair and cold, cold, calculating blue eyes. He was rather short for a military man, Aithne thought, but his chin testified to his determination. His features had probably been handsome once, but years of evil had set his face along less pleasant lines.

"Carth," he said, addressing the pilot first. "It has been a long time. I see that in your case the years have not been kind." He smirked. "I hardly recognized you."

Carth's eyes blazed as he gazed back at his nemesis. "But I recognize you, Saul. I see your face every night in my sleep even as I swear I will kill you for what you did to my family."

Saul chuckled lightly. It was not an amused sound. "You used to be a man of action," he reproached Carth. "Not empty words. And you're an insignificant part of these events anyway. Lord Malak is much more interested in your companions." A Sith stepped up to the interrogation panel.

"_Lord Malak_" Aithne spat, mimicking Saul's reverential tone. "Can go take a walk outside without a suit."

Saul turned on her. "Of course you would say that. The Dark Lord's hardly done you any favors, has he? I'm sure he'd love to greet you himself, but unfortunately Lord Malak is in another sector at the moment. I'd kill you myself, but I don't think he'd thank me, especially given the _history_ between the two of you."

"What are you talking about, Karath?" Aithne asked, impatient with the admiral's sneering tone.

Saul peered at her curiously. "You mean…" Suddenly he laughed, looking at Bastila delightedly. "Oh, this is too delicious!" He turned back to Aithne. "You really don't know, do you?"

Beside Aithne, Bastila had gone chalk white, and Aithne was suddenly seized with a terrible foreboding that the admiral knew why the Jedi wanted her, knew why Malak had been so desperate to kill her. "Know what?" she demanded.

The admiral shook his head. He was laughing too hard to answer. Finally, he responded. "Oh, far be it from me to tell you. The Dark Lord will no doubt wish to inform you himself." He chuckled once or twice more, than his face abruptly stiffened.

"When he arrives," Saul said, addressing all of them now, "The Dark Lord will no doubt torture you for information and for his own twisted pleasure, but until then, any information I am able to uncover will be rewarded." With that, he snapped his fingers.

Pain seized Aithne, firing every nerve and stretching and compacting every muscle until her very bones felt like magma. Her head seemed to split, and her teeth were pressured near to breaking with her effort not to cry out, but despite herself, she writhed in agony from the torture device.

Beside her, almost worse than her own pain, she heard Bastila and Carth's screams.

"Enough!" barked Saul, and the pain abruptly ceased, causing its own type of torture in the sudden cessation. Her nerves screamed in protest. "I don't want them to pass out before I question them." He spoke to the Sith controlling the device. "Malak will appreciate any information I can give him when he arrives."

"Don't waste your breath, Saul!" rang out Carth's voice, ragged but strong. "We won't answer any of your questions!" His defiance lent Aithne strength, and she stood tall, proud of him, silent, but agreeing.

"I'm sure _you_ won't," Saul said with distaste. "However, we both know your friend's loyalties have proven in the past to be somewhat…flexible."

He looked at Aithne then, amusement in his eyes at that same unknown thing he'd mentioned before. Her _history_ with Malak. Aithne licked her lips nervously. "What are you talking about?" she asked. A fear coiled in her stomach that had nothing to do with the torture.

Saul looked annoyed. "I am interrogating you, not the other way around. You will answer questions, not ask them. It is time to put your loyalty to the test." He looked her up and down critically, before saying. "I doubt torturing you will gain me your true cooperation. Your will is too strong to be broken that way." His eyes kindled in sudden suspicion. "However, even the strongest of heroes has trouble watching those they care about suffering." Aithne froze, hoping he didn't mean what she thought he did. "The interrogation will begin now," he announced. "Each time you refuse to answer or give me a false answer, Carth will suffer."

Aithne's first thought was wordless anguish, followed by rapid, nearly instantaneous calculation of her situation. She had no true personal loyalty to the Republic or to the Jedi Order. Both had seized her and strong-armed her into service. The Republic was corrupted and she had ideological issues with the Jedi. From that standpoint, nothing hindered her from answering Saul's questions and sparing Carth the crippling pain she herself had suffered just seconds ago.

On the other hand, Aithne absolutely despised the Sith. She wanted to hurt them any way she could for the destruction of Telos and Taris. It was the very idea of stopping their evil that had driven her to join with the Jedi at last. Answering the admiral's questions might very well aid the Sith, for all that Aithne had no clue about what the Jedi planned to do with the Star Forge when she located it for them. Anything that aided the Sith, and particularly anything that aided the evil man who had destroyed Carth's life, was to be avoided.

The last thought that occurred to Aithne in the seconds after Admiral Karath had announced his interrogation strategy was that she loved Carth. And Carth Onasi was a staunch defender of the Republic. He was a good, honorable, and trustworthy man. It was part of the reason that she loved him. And it would hurt Carth much worse should she betray the Republic he loved than if she should cause him to suffer and refuse to answer Saul Karath's questions.

She closed her eyes, steeling herself. Finally she said in a low voice, "I won't talk, Admiral. Especially for him, I won't talk. That's Carth, Karath. You know he'd suffer all the more if I talk."

"Aithne," Carth said urgently. "My pain is meaningless. Stay strong! Tell him nothing!"

"I tire of these games," Saul said menacingly. "Now I want answers! On what planet is the Jedi Academy on which you were trained?"

Aithne was confused. Malak had been a Jedi, a companion of Revan. He'd had access to military and to Jedi files during the Mandalorian Wars. And he'd been stalking Bastila and Aithne since Taris. If Darth Malak didn't know what planet she'd trained on, Aithne was a gizka.

She shook her head. "No," she said. "You're toying with me."

Saul frowned. "This is the price of your resistance," he said curtly, gesturing to the Sith manning the cages.

Carth's cry when the beam hit him tore Aithne's heart in two. He turned this way and that, his face so contorted with agony that he hardly looked human. Aithne's muscles ached in sympathy. Her eyes burned, and there was a sour taste in her mouth, but she didn't look away. She owed him that much.

"Enough!" Saul called out again, and Carth slumped, breathing heavily and sweating.

"You see what happens when you try to defy me?" he asked Aithne. "This first question was a test. Obviously Malak knew the Academy was on Dantooine, and it has since been destroyed by our fleet!"

Bastila gasped. Aithne nodded, feeling the weight of hundreds of lives fall on her shoulders as Saul confirmed her suspicions. She'd thought Malak had known. She'd hoped he'd focus on other targets and leave the people on unimportant, agricultural Dantooine alone. Saul smiled triumphantly at Bastila's stricken features.

"Nothing remains but a smoking ruin and the charred remains of your former Masters," he gloated.

Aithne stared at the sadistic, twisted man before her in fascination. Could Carth have been so deceived so as not to see the evil within him years before? Surely not. Aithne felt a sudden rush of compassion for the soul of Saul Karath, twisted and blighted now in front of her.

"What happened to you, Saul?" she asked quietly. "He loved you, you know, this man you're torturing. He doesn't like and respect and look up to people like you. What happened?"

Saul's face twisted in sudden fear, and he looked at Carth. He flinched. "Shut up!" he barked. "I said I would ask the questions! Tell me your mission! How were the Jedi planning on using you to stop Lord Malak and the Sith armada?"

Aithne pressed her lips together. "You could have asked the Jedi Masters on Dantooine that one," she spat finally. "I don't know, and I wouldn't tell you if I did."

Saul looked at her, and she could see his frustration mounting. "Perhaps you need a reminder of the consequences of refusing to cooperate," he suggested, his voice tight, gesturing to the torturer.

Carth screamed as the beam passed through him. His skin was growing red, now, and Aithne could hear the hoarseness in his voice. His fists clenched and unclenched, and she heard every so often a curse in his cries. Tears ran down Aithne's face as she watched Carth thrash in pain. "Stop," she cried. "Just stop, please!"

Saul motioned the torturer to stop. "Yes, you hear him suffering. Don't you care for him at all?"

Aithne glared at him. Hatred surged through her. "I love him enough _never_ to give into you for his sake," she said through her tears.

"One more chance, _Aithne Morrigan_," the admiral chided. His tone made her name a mockery. "On what mission did the Jedi Council send you?"

Aithne swallowed. "That's a different question, Admiral Karath," Aithne murmured, for this one she actually could answer. She shook her head. "I still won't tell you anything."

Saul growled in his throat. "Perhaps another lesson is in order?" he said, his cool tone at odds with the hatred in his eyes.

Carth began to scream again, but his voice went mid-cry. His hair stood on end, and uncontrollable spasms shook his body. Aithne beat on the wall of the Force Cage, sobbing, heedless of the damage to her hands. When he finally buckled, and fell to the floor of his force cage, unconscious, Aithne fell to her knees.

Saul motioned for the torturer to stop the machine. He looked slightly disappointed. "I'm surprised he did not pass out sooner," he remarked to no one in particular. "Rarely have I seen someone withstand such punishment and remain conscious." He turned to Aithne. "But I see I am wasting my time. When Malak arrives, you will learn my interrogation techniques are considered merciful among the Sith. I will leave you here in your cell with a small test of the horrors you will taste when Lord Malak arrives."

He leaned down and whispered something to the torturer. Aithne started to see him stalk out, but then pain enveloped her.

Her skin was afire. Her bones were molten metal. Aithne couldn't see for the pain and the hot tears that poured down her face. Beside her, Bastila's screams rent the air, but that didn't seem to matter anymore, for Carth lay on the floor of his cage unmoving while the torture beams danced their terrible dance in the cell. Aithne thought he might be dead, and the thought of that gave her more pain than that which the device inflicted on her body, even as her hair began to singe and she lost control of her muscles and crumpled to the floor. Yet even as she blacked out for the second time that day, there was no relief from the pain. The world was pain.

* * *

><p>When Aithne came to again, she still lay in her cell. The noise of the Sith had ceased. Her every muscle ached, and her skin tingled. She saw what seemed to be scorch marks on her underwear. But the crushing pain was gone. Looking around, Aithne saw that all the Sith in the room had gone, too. She tried to sit up, but her head nearly split from the effort.<p>

"Don't…" said Bastila from Aithne's right. "Don't try to move too quickly, Aithne. You might not be fully recovered yet. Admiral Karath had his guards continue to torture you even after you passed out."

"I…I think I made him mad," Aithne said weakly.

A ragged laugh sounded. "I think you did," said a hoarse, but dear voice. Aithne sat up, ignoring the pain, and saw Carth, sitting on the floor of his cell, looking terrible, but very much alive. Aithne gazed at him, taking the sight of him in. "They tortured all of us," he said. "But you got the worst of it by far. They didn't torture me much after Saul left, Bastila said, and they hardly touched her. But Saul wanted them to make us suffer. He's become some sort of sadistic monster."

"The Dark Side has perverted him, Carth," Bastila said sadly. "Once you start down the tainted path it leads you ever further into the depths of evil. I fear he is forever lost."

Aithne's very soul rebelled at the thought. "You're wrong, Bastila!" she cried. "The Dark Side can be resisted, and you can _always_ come back!"

Bastila gave Aithne a long, measuring look, seeming to consider something. "I suppose you are correct," she said finally, and Aithne got the feeling she meant more by it than the discussion of ideas of the Dark and Light Sides of the Force. "Sometimes it is easy to lose sight of that hope in the face of such unbridled cruelty, but you speak the truth." She laughed bitterly. "I suppose I'm taking the news of Dantooine's destruction quite hard. First Taris, now the Academy. Is there no end to the killing?"

Aithne closed her eyes, reaching within herself, to the part of the Force that they could never cut her off from, no matter how many force cages they stuck her inside of. A feeling of peace rose up inside her, and she spoke. "There will be, Bastila," she said with confidence and power. "There will be an end to the killing. Somehow I feel that we will have peace, and that those on Dantooine will find that they did not die in vain."

Bastila was silent for a moment, then, softly, she said. "It's strange, in the midst of all this darkness and doubt, but I believe you. However, we should have felt a disturbance in the Force when the attack came. The fact that we did not is a bad sign. I fear the Dark Side is growing stronger, casting shadows our vision cannot pierce. I can only hope that some of the Jedi escaped. Vrook, Vandar, Zhar…I cannot imagine all of them being gone." Inexpressible sadness filled her voice. Aithne, too, mourned for the Jedi, as manipulative and misguided as they could be. She felt a pang for Zhar, especially, and all of the innocent Younglings that would never see Knighthood. "In any case," Bastila continued, "we have lost our one place of refuge in the galaxy."

Carth, more practical at the moment, stood, wincing slightly. "It won't even matter," he answered Bastila, "if we don't get out of here before Saul gets back."

Aithne nodded, rising as well, though her legs shook and her joints protested. "Where is he now?"

"Saul mentioned that Lord Malak was on his way," Carth began. "I think the admiral left to prepare for his arrival…and to report the results of our interrogation."

Bastila interjected. "It is fortunate that you were able to resist the admiral's questioning," she complimented Aithne. "The fate of the galaxy could be changed by revealing the slightest piece of vital information."

Aithne shook her head. "Don't…don't talk about that."

Carth spoke up, looking a little guilty. "I…uh…I have to confess something. There was a…there was a moment- just a moment- when a part of me was hoping that you would just tell him what he wanted to know. Just to make the horrible pain stop."

Aithne closed her eyes. She could tell Bastila not to talk about it, but she owed Carth an explanation. She nodded, and her hair fell into her face, shielding her from his eyes. But her voice kept steady. "If I had you would have regretted it. You would have felt betrayed, because I revealed information, and guilty, because I revealed it on your behalf and part of you wanted me to. Now you don't feel either of those things. Your body will heal." She swallowed. "Your soul wouldn't have. Now…it's just my burden, I guess. But don't- don't think for a moment that I didn't _die_ every _second_ that they were torturing you. I'll…I'll never be able to forget it."

She shuddered, and Carth studied her. Finally he nodded. "You're right. I'm…I'm sorry." His gaze softened. "I don't honestly know if I could have been as strong in your position. To watch you suffer…"

Aithne flinched.

"…I might have cracked."

Bastila suddenly tilted her head as if listening for something. Aithne felt it, too.

"A disturbance in the Force," Bastila explained to the bewildered Carth. "The Admiral has sent his message, and the Dark Lord knows we are here now. Malak is coming."

Carth nodded grimly, and expressed his hope, shared by all, that their rescuer would act before the Lord of the Sith arrived.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So who knows who's rescuing them? Guess! Just guess! Anyway, I'm hard at work, and the rest of the nightmare _Leviathan_ incident is on its way. In the next chapter: Someone rescues the **_**Ebon Hawk**_** crew, and Carth gets his revenge. Be a dear and review, will you? **

**-LMSharp**


	32. What Is Truly Terrifying

**Disclaimer: I have received no monetary compensation for the time I've spent on this installment, as the ideas present within mine are not original, but merely interpretations of someone else's genius.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Thirty-Two<p>

MISSION POV

The Sith officer escorting Mission to solitary confinement hadn't been the brightest bulb to begin with, but now she'd annoyed him into downright stupidity. Mission yanked her arm away from his grip. So far her plan was working out well. She'd been captured on her own, and had managed to goad the officers into punishing her by putting her into her own cell, away from the others. She'd been stripped of her equipment, but she wasn't too worried. She had street smarts. So she had no resources at the moment. She's simply…acquire some more.

They'd stopped in front of a cell. It was clean, and generously large. The Sith officer gestured to it. "C'mon girlie," he said wearily. "Into the cell. Let's go. I haven't got all day to waste on you. I need to get back to my post."

He made to shove her into the cell. Mission threw up her arms and stepped back. "Quit crowding me," she complained. "Sheesh! I've met Gamorreans who didn't smell as bad as you Sith!"

The Sith stepped closer, irritated. "You think you're pretty funny, don't you?" he asked menacingly. Mission shrugged. She wanted him mad. "But you're only making things worse for yourself," he continued.

Mission put her hands on her hips. "How come every time you open your mouth to talk the scent of rancor dung comes out?" she inquired, supremely unconcerned.

The Sith tensed. "Maybe a little time in solitary confinement will teach you the proper respect for the Sith!" He shoved her roughly, and she stumbled against him. "Now get into that cell!"

Mission recovered herself, palming the Sith guard's keycard and walking easily into the prison cell.

"Who designed those Sith uniforms anyway?" she asked, unable to resist. "A blind Rodian with a sick sense of humor?" _And no idea of security at all? _she thought to herself.

The Sith actually came into her cell, walking right up to her and staring down at her as if she were a mosquito biting him. "Oh, that's funny," he murmured. "You should tell that one to the torturer when he comes to deal with you."

Mission made sure to play her part. He thought she was a snippy child. She'd give him a child. It wasn't as if she had nothing to work with. She was scared stiff. Only an idiot wouldn't be. So she let him see it. She widened her eyes. "What? You're…you're going to torture me?"

The Sith laughed in her face. "What?" he asked. "No snappy comeback this time? The thought of torture scares you, hmm?" He stepped back, and snapped, "Well it should. The Sith have ways to inflict pain you can't even imagine. It may be a few hours before your torture begins; we're busy interrogating your friends right now, you know, the two pretty Jedi and the Republic man. Hey, I know! You could use the time to think up witty ways to beg for mercy!" Laughing, he walked away, activating the force field that blocked her cell door.

Mission bit her lip, waiting for the sound of his footsteps to fade. Then to herself she said, "Or I could use the keycard I lifted from your pocket to slice into the security panel and get myself out of this cell. It seems like a good idea to me."

It took her less than thirty seconds to hack the system and let herself out. Mission snorted at the inefficiency of it all. Really, they had better locks in the Tarisian sewers. "Piece of cake," she said softly. "I wonder when people will stop underestimating me."

Mission took a breath. Aithne didn't. Underestimate her, that is. Particularly now, Mission was a little worried that Aithne might be overestimating her. Sure, she could annoy a guard, get chucked into solitary confinement, and slice her way out of a cell. She might even be able to last a few days out of confinement completely unnoticed. But could she really bust all the others out of high security detention on a Sith ship of over three hundred people on red alert? Mission swallowed. Aithne had decided to trust her. Not Canderous, not Jolee, not Juhani, not even Big Z. Aithne was trusting Mission to get her, and everybody out of this mess. Mission couldn't afford to be the little kid that ran for help in the Tarisian Undercity. She blinked. Hmph. And she'd thought she was grown up then. Strange how fast things changed. Mission squared her shoulders. Aithne, Carth, and Bastila were being tortured. It was time and past to be moving.

In the backstreets and alleys of the Tarisian Lower City, you kept quiet and out of sight or you got hurt. Mission had learned her lessons there, and now she utilized everything she'd ever picked up or thought of. She used the shadows to conceal her movements as she searched the brig. She kept her breathing even and deep, slowing her heart rate and making herself harder to hear.

Eventually Mission found what she was looking for. At the end of the hallway, the Sith had stowed contraband from various no-name prisoners. It wasn't her own gear, but it would do. Mission acquired a combat suit and blasters from the tub there. The blasters were rough and clumsy in comparison to the well-matched pair Carth and Aithne had gifted her with, but she'd used the like on Taris. She also found a few medpacs already tucked in a bag, and even discovered a stealth field generator. It was more than Mission had hoped for. She dressed silently and equipped the bag and weapons. Some of her nervousness evaporated.

"_Now _we're talkin'," she breathed.

She activated the stealth field and crept along down the hall, looking for something, anything that might tell her where the others were and how she might rescue them. She held her breath as she passed within a hand span of Mr. Witty-Ways-to-Beg-for-Mercy, but she needn't have worried. He didn't notice a thing. He was walking the other direction, presumably patrolling, or off to his post.

She would have just gone on by. Guards after all were things to be avoided or killed. All alone, and with all her friends depending on her, Mission was leaning towards the avoidance option, but the guard passed a door and opened it. He shouted a hello to his buddy the technician, and Mission halted.

There was a computer. Mission's stomach clenched in victory, and she drew close to the wall, waiting silently for the guard to go on his merry way. Eventually he did, and Mission peered into the computer room. There were two tech-guys there. Slowly, so she didn't make any sound to alert them, Mission set her blaster to stun. Taking careful aim, just like Canderous and Carth had taught her, she fired. Once! Twice!

The technicians fell to the tiled floor with a clatter of armor. Mission waited thirty seconds, but no one came to check the source of the sound. Picking her way around the unconscious Sith, Mission approached the computer.

Mission shook her head in quiet contempt. For a high-class Sith interdictor ship, or whatever Carth had called this monster, security was terrible. She was able to worm her way into the system in almost no time at all. She brought up the layout of the brig level, and studied it, both to memorize her own position and to discover where her companions might be kept. Mission breathed a sigh of relief. Aithne, Carth, Big Z and the others were probably being held in the Detention Block, not too far from her current location.

Mission then checked the cameras briefly for any obstacles that might be between her and the others. To her relief, it looked like there were only three guards standing shooting the breeze in the hallway immediately before the detention area.

A groan alerted her to the fact that the unconscious Sith in the room were starting to come around. Quick as lightning, Mission shot them both back to sleep again. She couldn't have them sounding the alarm before she'd rescued the others, but she remembered that Sith in the Undercity that had died defending one of its citizens, and didn't really want to shoot to kill.

She moved from the computer room towards the detention area as swiftly and as silently as she could. For all she knew, they were still torturing Aithne, Carth, and Bastila. She bit her lip, wondering what she'd do if they were still torturing her friends when she got there. Something ugly clenched in her stomach. Bastila was a little stuck up sometimes, but she was great to talk to on chore rotation, and Carth and Aithne...Mission hadn't had anybody but Big Z, and they'd been there for her. They treated her like family, both of them. It was annoying sometimes, sure, but if she walked in there and she saw someone hurting the pair of them, that someone would pay for it.

In the distance and up a ramp were the three guys Mission had seen on the cameras earlier. They hadn't moved since then, and didn't look like they planned on moving any time soon. Mission looked over at the other end of the corridor she stood in.

There was the elevator. In order to get to the hangar and the Ebon Hawk, she and the others would have to pass this way again. Mission winced, and upped the setting on her blasters, setting her teeth.

Quietly she crept up behind the trio. The first died from a clear shot to the back of the head. He never knew what hit him. The second was felled in a rapid fire strike Mission had learned from Carth. The third saw his companions fall, and grabbed at his weapon, but it was too late. A bolt went through the top of his head as he fumbled for his sword, and he, too, fell.

Mission looked down at the three guards, a little sad. But then, lifting her chin, she strode past them, keyed into the detention area, and went to the computer she'd known would be there.

Mission now knew the Sith brig system like an old friend. She was into it as easily as if she had waved and asked to be let in. And when she was, she had only one command.

"Open security. Release prisoners."

Zaalbar was the first to Mission. He caught her up in one of his bone crushing, rather smelly hugs.

/You did it! I am glad to see you,/ he said.

"Good job, kid," Canderous grunted.

"Not half bad," Jolee agreed. "You were quick about it, at least."

The crew fell silent as three figures walked out of the interrogation chamber, moving slowly, circles under their eyes and scorch marks on their minimal clothing, but proudly erect and definitely alive.

Mission's insides twisted in guilt. "Aithne, Carth, Bastila—I'm so sorry, I should've been quicker…" but Aithne walked to her and grabbed her hand.

"You didn't push the button, Mish. You're the one that just got us out of there so they won't ever push it again. Thank you."

"I knew you wouldn't let us down," Carth told her, smiling proudly. "When we get out of this, I'm going to see you get a medal from the Republic for all you've done."

Mission made a face at him. Like that'd accomplish anything. "What would I do with a medal?" she demanded. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

><p>AITHNE POV<p>

"Mission," Aithne said, "None of us have any weapons or clothes."

Mission looked at her blasters and combat suit pointedly.

"Except you," Juhani said with a touch of exasperation.

Carth thought for a moment. "If I remember the layout of this ship our equipment should be in a storage chamber just through the north doors." He indicated the door that _Ebon Hawk_ crew hadn't been through yet in the detention area. "After we grab our stuff we need to get to the main bridge controls. The bridge is the only place we can open the docking gates of the hangar where they've got the _Ebon Hawk_. We have to open those gates before we can get out of here."

"We better get moving," Bastila said worriedly. "I can feel the darkness of Malak's presence approaching, and I don't want to be here when he arrives. None of us is a match for the Sith Lord."

Aithne nodded, adding to herself, _Not yet. _"What's the plan?" she asked Carth and Bastila, the ones most familiar with Sith and the _Leviathan_.

Bastila looked thoughtful, then said positively, "Surprise and secrecy will serve us best. A small group might have a better chance of sneaking onto the bridge undetected while the others make their way to the _Ebon Hawk_."

Carth's eyebrows met threateningly. "Count me in, then!" he growled. "I've got a score to settle with the Admiral before we get off this ship, and I have a feeling that I'm going to find him on the _Leviathan_'s bridge!"

Aithne's body flooded with adrenaline at the anger and determination in Carth's voice. She stepped up beside him. "You're not going without me!" she cried.

Bastila looked at the two of them. "Of course not," she said crisply. "I'm going, too. The others can get to the _Ebon Hawk_ on their own, but all three of us need to go to the bridge."

Aithne looked at Bastila in gratitude, knowing she was coming along to help Aithne make sure Carth didn't do anything idiotic, and to guard Aithne from her own emotions if he did. She looked at the crew before her, standing awaiting her orders.

"Alright," she told them. "So the three of us will head to the bridge. All of you need to find the Ebon _Hawk_. You'll have to find a way to handle the guards."

Canderous smiled unpleasantly. "Don't you worry about that," he assured her, looking speculatively at Juhani, Zaalbar, and HK-47. "I know how to deal with the guards. They won't know what hit them!"

Aithne looked sharply at him. "Good. 'Cause I'm placing you in command. Get your equipment, deal with the guards," she stared straight into his blue eyes. "And _keep everyone alive."_

Canderous looked now at Mission, Teethree, and Jolee. He nodded at Aithne.

"We'll meet you there as soon as we get those docking bay doors open," Bastila assured him. "Just make sure the _Hawk _is ready to fly when we get there!" She paused, looking no less dignified for the fact that she was still mostly naked. "May the Force be with you."

With a nod, Canderous led the others away. Bastila stood there importantly until Aithne poked her in the side.

"Heavy moment and all. I get that. But can we get our equipment, too? I don't think Karath will be too impressed if we show up to hijack the bridge half-naked pointing finger guns at him."

"You do have a point," Bastila conceded. The three of them started moving to get their equipment. Canderous led the others past towards the _Hawk_ with a wave of his recovered com-link. Aithne nodded. He'd be in touch.

They found everything in the room Carth had mentioned. The Sith had folded Aithne's clothes into a neat little barrel. Aithne donned them quickly, and suddenly felt much better. She found her pack hung up in a locker, with her lightsabers stuck unceremoniously in the top of it.

"Really, it's almost as if they were expecting us to come along and need our stuff," Aithne observed, grabbing Bastila's boots and handing them to her.

"Nice of them to keep all of our gear together," Carth agreed. In three minutes, all of them were dressed, armed to the teeth, and, once Aithne had used the Force to heal the hurts that still smarted from their earlier torture, feeling considerably healthier.

"Alright then," said Bastila. "Let's go."

They met no-one on their way to the elevator. But as they were about to embark, Aithne's com-link buzzed.

She switched it on. "Aithne here," she said shortly.

"This is Canderous," came the voice of the Mandalorian in a low growl. "We're at the _Ebon Hawk_. Like we figured, it's under heavy guard. But don't worry, we'll figure out a plan to take care of them."

"I leave it to your good judgment," Aithne said. "Over and out."

They took the elevator to the bridge level. Carth closed his eyes when he heard the alarms ringing. He swore under his breath. "They must have got news of our escape," he explained to the others. "The place will be crawling with troops, and the bridge will have locked down. We could probably get around to it from the maintenance walk…but it's a ways from here."

"And we'll need suits," Aithne said, thinking rapidly. "Where's the armory, Carth?"

Carth thought. "A few doors down," he said. "But there will be technicians, and guards in the way."

Aithne shrugged. "We'll have to risk it," she said. "If they get in the way, incapacitate, don't kill. We don't have time to kill everyone in our way right now. "

Bastila nodded, and she was the first one out of the elevator.

It was rather like wading through drying cement, Aithne thought, or caramel. Every time one soldier went down, another one, or a droid, or sometimes a low-caliber Dark Jedi, sprung up in his place. But finally, spattered with blood and breathing hard, they made it to the armory. As Aithne had suspected, the _Leviathan_ kept space suits in stock there, and they grabbed three of them.

"We'll have to take care of them with the Force, Bastila," she told her friend, toting the heavy suit along with her. "Or Carth will have to shoot them until we get to the maintenance walk."

Bastila nodded, and Carth upped the setting on his blasters. They weren't attacked as much on the way to the maintenance walk as they had been on the way to the armory. Carth led them around, and once they got to the room with the airlock branching off of it, they were completely alone.

They began to put on the space suits.

"Remember," Carth said from within his helmet when they were finished. "When we get to the bridge, Saul Karath is mine."

Aithne nodded. "I won't get in the way," she promised, her voice coming out tinny and small. "But I'll have your back. I don't want you killed."

Carth started out the airlock, but threw back over his shoulder. "Beautiful, _I_ don't want me killed either, anymore."

Aithne savored that for half a second, and then followed him with Bastila.

The maintenance walk was cold. Well, it would be, Aithne thought. It was space. She looked out over the edge of the _Leviathan_. Beneath her were thousands of stars and countless planets. Aithne had been to many of them in her years of scouting, but she hadn't yet visited them all. But she'd been around enough to know that all around her were people living their lives in fear now because of the ship she clung to the side of and the people it contained. She pressed forward.

On the other side of the walk, safe inside the ship once more, Aithne, Bastila, and Carth left their suits. Should they need them, they would return for them after they dealt with Saul Karath and opened the docking bay doors.

They opened a door, and looked at three guards. The door beyond them, Aithne knew, had to be the bridge proper. Admiral Karath would be there, and Carth could have the revenge he'd waited for all this time. There, too, they could open the docking bay doors so that they could fly the _Ebon Hawk_ to freedom. But first they had to go through these last three guards. They hadn't fired yet. They were just standing there, trembling. Aithne stared at them.

"You're in the way, boys," Aithne said finally. One of the soldiers flinched at the sound of her voice.

Another of them spoke up, though. "Darth Malak is coming," he declared. "He'll take care of you, even if you kill us!"

Aithne looked a bit more closely at the three guards. They were boys. Maybe Bastila's age, or younger, even. Aithne was vaguely reminded of Trask, the young Republic ensign that had given his life for her back on the _Endar Spire. _These Sith were just as full of zeal and conviction. Aithne realized that to these kids, she and Bastila and Carth probably looked much like that Dark Jedi had to Trask.

Aithne sighed. "Look," she said. "Just move. We just want to leave. You're young. Don't make us hurt you."

The third boy stuck out his chin. "You would harm Admiral Karath, and leave before Lord Malak arrives. It is our duty to detain you. We shall do our duty, though we perish in the attempt."

At his words the other two straightened, and though the boy's language was formal, bordering on pompous, Aithne had to admire the bravery and nobility of the gesture. She activated her lightsaber, but held off a moment more. "What are your names?" she asked quietly.

"Gavin," said the trembler. "Peter," said the second. The noble speaker looked at her for a moment.

"I'm Lahad," he said finally. "The man's Carth Onasi, and the Jedi next to you is Bastila. But who are you?"

"Aithne Morrigan," returned the same. "Lahad, I really don't want to kill you."

The boy looked at her steadily, and Aithne thought for a moment that she loved him, though he was her enemy. "I don't want to kill you, either, Aithne Morrigan."

But there was nothing for it. All of them knew it. So Lahad cried "Fire!"

And a tear ran down Aithne's face as she deflected the blaster bolts back at the young guards. Carth shot down Gavin. Bastila pushed Peter into a wall before moving in for the kill, and Aithne cut down Lahad herself. Her face felt like stone, but a curse was in her heart for the evil of war.

Bastila gripped Aithne's shoulder before they walked through the door, and touched her mind with gentle compassion, but Carth's jaw was tight. He wasn't seeing the boys they'd just killed. Aithne doubted that he was aware of Bastila or even herself as he keyed the door open. Aithne followed him silently through the door and onto the _Leviathan_'s bridge. Everything was silent for a moment.

Karath was waiting for them, accompanied by two dark Jedi and four men that looked like special forces. He didn't look surprised in the least to be facing the three of them, though the alarm could not have told him which prisoners had been tearing up the bridge level. But Aithne had thought he might be ready for them. Karath had been Carth's mentor. He knew what he was capable of. And indeed, Saul's first words were to Carth.

"Very resourceful. I assume you had some part in this; you learned your lessons well from me."

Every line of Carth's body was tense and poised for action as he replied, "The only thing you taught me was betrayal and death, Saul."

Saul's face hardened, but Aithne thought she detected a little hurt in his voice as he snapped, "Don't be a fool. I'm giving you and your companions a chance to surrender. A chance to live. Darth Malak himself is on his way. He will be arriving any moment."

Bastila shot a nervous glance out the front display, as if expecting a ship to draw up. "He speaks the truth, Carth," she said tightly. "I can feel the Dark Lord's presence approaching."

Saul seemed to grow more confident as Bastila expressed her nervousness. "Malak will destroy you," he said. "But if you put down your weapons now I will ask my master to be merciful."

Aithne laughed. "Yeah, _that's_ likely," she said. Saul shot her an annoyed glance, but looked to Carth.

The pilot's face was stormy and grim. "I've seen enough of Sith mercy!" he said.

Saul sighed, and there was just a trace of genuine regret in his voice when he said, "You always did like to do things the hard way. Lord Malak would have preferred prisoners, but corpses will have to do."

Aithne leapt upon the special forces men, while Bastila moved on the Dark Jedi. Aithne cut with her lightsaber, but the motions were instinctive. Almost all her attention was on Carth.

Carth stood mid-deck facing Saul Karath. From Karath's stance, Aithne could tell that he, too, was an expert marksman. Both men had years of experience and finely fashioned weapons. Saul had years of evil on his side, together with the determination that had made him Malak's number one military man. But Carth had years of anger and hate, fueled by the love he had borne his homeworld, his son, and his wife, and the betrayal he had suffered at the hands of this man he had admired.

Saul twitched. Both men brought up their blasters at once. Carth dodged, fired, and it was the admiral that sank with Carth's bolt in his body. With one look of disgust, Carth turned on the remaining Sith guards.

When it was all over, Aithne picked her way through the bodies. The bridge terminal was not secured. Undoubtedly someone had been using it before their invasion of the bridge. Aithne keyed open the docking doors, and turned to the others.

"Let…"

But a cough halted her, a wet, bloody cough. "Carth…" rasped a voice. "Carth."

The keen eyed Bastila spotted the survivor. "The Admiral," she said. "He's still alive!"

Carth drew a knife from his belt. His face was darker than Aithne had ever seen it. She felt almost afraid of him. "It's time to finish this," he said.

Aithne had promised not to interfere. But now as Carth strode purposefully towards the helpless, dying man, his aura was growing darker by the second. Aithne stepped between Carth and the admiral.

"Just leave him, Carth," she said quietly. "Please. I don't want to see who you'll become if you give in to your hatred now."

Carth turned on her, surprised, but he halted his motion towards Saul Karath. "Don't you understand what this man has done to my life?" he asked, with a violent gesture towards the dying old man. "Do you know the pain he's brought me?"

Bastila placed a firm hand on Carth's arm, forcing him to look at her. "Killing him won't ease the pain, Carth," she said urgently. "Do not become what you despise!"

But the Admiral still called. "Carth…" he rasped, desperately. "Must tell you something…" with a pale, worn, bloodied hand he beckoned. "Come closer."

Aithne circled the admiral and kicked the blaster next to him out of his reach. Carth sheathed his knife then, and knelt beside his former mentor to hear his dying words.

Saul whispered something to Carth. Aithne couldn't hear him. Bastila couldn't, either. But both women saw Carth's expression change from anger and curiosity to disbelief and puzzlement.

Saul laughed, a broken, rasping, terrible sound, and Aithne saw the malice on his face and an awful wave of foreboding swept over her. "You didn't know, did you?" Saul asked Carth in failing tones. "Remember my dying words, Carth," he said venomously, coughing. He reminded Aithne of a snake, biting even as someone stepped on it and crushed it. "Remember them whenever…whenever you look at those you thought were your friends!"

Aithne's stomach dropped. It had to be her. She didn't know how, or what, but she knew it had to be her. Karath had told Carth something terrible about her just now, something solely meant to hurt him, as some sort of twisted revenge.

"He's gone," Carth reported, his face clouded. He appeared to be thinking very rapidly. "He said…it can't be true, can it?" Aithne saw him put something together, though, and whatever he'd put together made sense. And it was horrible. Carth sprang up suddenly. He was angrier than she had ever seen him. His face was white, his fists clenched. "No," he said softly. "No!" Louder. Then "NO!" Almost a shout. "It can't!" he cried, but Aithne could tell it was denial. "Damn you, Saul," Carth hissed at the corpse. "Damn you!"

"What did he say?" Aithne demanded. She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know. Her stomach knotted and clenched. Her heart was in her throat and she felt the blood drain from her face. It seemed as if all this time she had been walking towards a precipice. Now she felt that she stood upon the very brink, and she had a horrid feeling that she was about to fall off, especially when Carth rounded on Bastila, furious.

"Bastila- it is true, isn't it?" he demanded. "And…and _that's what you knew_! You and the whole damn Jedi Council. You knew the whole time!"

Bastila's eyes went wide in understanding, and her gaze flickered from the window to Carth to the corpse to Aithne in rapid panic. "Carth, please," she begged softly. "It's not what you think. We had no other choice! Please, you don't understand."

Carth was in Bastila's face by now. "So make me understand!" he challenged.

"What's going on?" Aithne cried. "Bastila! Carth?"

Bastila's eyes merely flickered to the window again. "Not here, Carth," she pleaded. "Please, there's no time! Malak is coming. This isn't the place. Please, Carth, I'm asking you to trust me. For just a little while longer."

Aithne felt the shadow that was Malak approaching, and she, too, look nervously out the window. "Bastila's right, Carth. Malak's almost here. We have to go. But later…you're going to tell me what Karath told you that makes you look angrier than I've ever seen you. And Bastila- you're going to tell me why you look like the world's ending and it's your fault. But later. Not now."

Carth looked at her briefly, and then away, but the brief glance gave Aithne a chill. It was an angry, distrustful glance, colder than even the looks he'd given her at the beginning of their acquaintance when he'd suspected her of being a spy. He…he looked at her as if she were some sort of monster.

"I'll trust you, Bastila," Carth said, not even replying to Aithne. "But as soon as we're off this ship I expect some answers!"

"Of course, Carth," Bastila promised. "As _soon_ as we get to the _Ebon Hawk_. I'll explain everything." She looked at Aithne, fear, and…and compassion in her gaze. "To both of you. I promise!"

Aithne led the way back to the elevator. But through the entire space walk, through the nearly empty corridors of the bridge level, the party was completely silent. Carth simmered behind Aithne. Bastila's guilt, worry, and fear rolled off her in nearly overwhelming waves. Aithne couldn't help but tremble, afraid because Bastila was so afraid. She thought as they entered the elevator and began to descend to the hangar that she might even be more afraid of what Karath had told Carth and what Bastila knew than she was of the approaching Dark Lord of the Sith.

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><p><strong>AN:I'm actually behind on this story right now. I ought to be halfway finished writing Manaan as I post this. But I've only just started. I'm only three, rather than five chapters ahead of you guys. It's just, I figure it's not fair to you to hold off posting when I've written the climactic plot twist and the immediate aftermath. I know in your shoes I'd hate that. So here. **

**I really like the Mission part of this chapter, but I'm not sure if I haven't gone overboard with the intuitive foreshadowing on the second half. Let me know, hmm? Leave a review and let me know what I could have done better. Or if I nailed it. That's good, too.**

**May the Force Be With You,**

**LMSharp**


	33. A Dark Revelation

**Disclaimer: I humbly disclaim the idea for this brilliant plot twist. It's not mine. Aithne's not even completely mine.**

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><p>Chapter Thirty-Three<p>

The elevator doors opened onto the hangar level of the _Leviathan_. _Leviathan_, Aithne thought. The great beast. The name was eerie in its appropriateness. She certainly never wanted to see it again. If she had the power to shoot it out of the sky, she would. She missed the _Hawk_. With any luck they'd be there shortly.

Aithne's com-link buzzed again. She switched it on, and Canderous spoke, in his normal tone. "It's Canderous. We took care of the guards. We're all inside the _Ebon Hawk_ and all systems are go. As soon as you guys join us we can get out of here."

"Good work," Aithne praised the Mandalorian. "We took care of the doors. We're on your level and headed your way. Over and out."

Of course on their way to the ship, Sith inevitably came out to look at them and decided to fight. Aithne, Bastila, and Carth left an increasing silence behind them, as well as bodies. All the time, too, Aithne and Bastila could feel the presence of the Dark Lord of the Sith drawing nearer and nearer, until finally Aithne was sure he must be just beyond the next door.

He was. The door directly ahead of Aithne opened, and Aithne almost stamped her foot. The _Ebon Hawk_ was mere feet away, just beyond the next few doors! But they still hadn't been quick enough. Malak was pale, scarred, and tattooed, with a hideous monstrosity of an electronic jaw. He stood near seven feet tall, and wore a cape and a menacing expression.

"Darth Malak," Bastila hailed him defiantly.

Carth's move was nothing short of inspirational. In the face of the Lord of the Sith himself, Carth Onasi whipped out his blasters, tired though he was, and shot, with a cry of defiance. Aithne wasn't sure if she had ever loved him more.

Not that it did any good. With a cruel mechanical laugh, Malak diverted the bolts as if they were merely paper bullets. With a vicious Force shove, he knocked Carth to his knees. Carth rose immediately, but his gun remained at his side as Malak spoke, addressing Bastila.

"I hope you weren't thinking of leaving so soon, Bastila," he said. He spoke in a monotone that the electronic voice box produced for him, as he was deprived of the articulators that lay somewhere with his severed jaw. "I've spent far too much energy hunting down you and your companions to let you get away from me now. Besides," he said, turning to Aithne. He looked her over with something approaching amazement. "I had to see for myself if it was true." Aithne's mouth went dry. Him, too? "Tell me, why did the Jedi spare you?" he asked her. "Is it vengeance you seek at this reunion?"

Something was clawing at the back of Aithne's mind, like an itch she couldn't quite reach to scratch. The fear she'd felt since Karath's dying intimation to Carth, the foreboding she'd felt since her torture an hour or so ago, and the vague unease she'd felt ever since she first got mixed up with Bastila Shan all began to take shape at Malak's words, though she knew not into what. Aithne licked her lips nervously. "I…I don't understand," she said.

Malak's cold, dark eyes widened. "What?" he asked, gaze flickering to Bastila and back to Aithne. Then, horribly, he laughed. "You mean you don't know?" He laughed again, seemingly unable to control himself. "All this time, and you still haven't figured it out? I wonder how long you would have stayed blind to the truth?" he asked rhetorically, reveling in Aithne's ignorance of this terrible truth everyone else seemed to know now. "Surely some of what you once were must have surfaced by now."

Aithne found it hard to focus. The mysterious tug at the back of her mind and in the pit of her stomach strengthened. "What I once…but.."

All the things that had puzzled her since she'd started on this insane quest seemed to be flashing at once into her mind. Her odd importance to Malak. To Bastila, and to the Jedi. Her uncharacteristic and easy callousness on Korriban. How the computer on Kashyyyk had recognized her. Her disturbing thoughts at the time. The way Jolee looked at her sometimes…_Something is very dark about you. _How the Jedi Council had been so ready to consider her Force Sensitive, but so reluctant to admit her into training. Bastila's constant dodging of certain topics- always those concerning Revan. How she'd taken to Jedi Training, almost like she'd _done it before_.

"Even the combined power of the Jedi Council couldn't keep your true identity buried forever, could it?" asked Malak silkily.

Aithne's head was reeling. Flashes of dreams played through her head, always from the perspective of Revan, Lord of the Sith. She seemed to feel a lightsaber in her hands, once green, now green again, but…_but it had been red_. She remembered all at once with new bone-chilling significance how Carth had told her on Taris the ways that the Sith could use the Force to wipe away memories and destroy identities. She felt again Revan's pain and betrayal as a ship deck shook beneath her. _The Force is the Force, _she thought, _anything the Sith can do to a mind, the Jedi can do. _So many coincidences swam in her consciousness. Too many. So many dreams…but they _weren't dreams_, they were memories. Everything came together to form a sudden, terrible conviction. Aithne closed her eyes. Her very soul screamed in pain, rejecting the obvious truth.

"You cannot hide from what you once were, Revan!" Malak said gleefully, and Aithne flinched at the sound of the name. Her name. A brilliant young woman, compassionate and eager to learn. The savior of the galaxy. The ruthless tyrannical overlord that had killed millions, that had held the galaxy at its throat. "Recognize that you were once the Dark Lord- and know that I have taken your place!"

Aithne assembled all the countless clues, bringing them together in her mind. Each and every one fit into that same conclusion. She opened her eyes, looking at Malak. "I'm Revan," she murmured. "It makes sense."

She turned to Bastila, quite calmly, though her soul felt as if it had been ripped out of her body and stomped on. She remembered her dear father, all those years of scouting and loneliness, and realized that it was all a lie, a fabrication of the Jedi. "And yet I never could have guessed. How is it that I don't remember?"

Malak's eyes gleamed in malicious triumph. "The Council used the Force to reprogram your mind," he volunteered. "They wiped away your identity and turned you against your own followers."

"Bastila," Aithne said again urgently. "Answer me. _Why am I alive_?"

Malak answered again. "The Jedi are fools. They do not believe in executing…"

Aithne rounded on him. "Last time I checked," she said quietly, "Your name wasn't Bastila. I'll deal with you in a moment. My mind's full of lies, true. But a few things have managed to slip through the cracks. For example, I remember that you fired on Revan…on…my ship." She stumbled over the words, barely managing to keep her voice from breaking. "While Rev…while I was fighting Bastila."

Bastila finally spoke. "It's true," she said. "When Malak fired on the ship you were badly injured. We thought you were dead. Your mind was destroyed, but I used the Force to preserve the flicker of life in your body. I brought you to the Jedi Council. They healed your damaged mind."

Aithne couldn't take the dishonesty. She shook her head, rejecting Bastila's words. "Maybe they kept me from dying. Maybe they restored me so I could function. But they didn't heal my mind, Bastila. My entire life, every memory in my recall, is a _lie_. The Council did that. And for what? The _Star Forge_?" Her voice broke finally.

"They tried to make you their slave," Malak interjected. Aithne felt sure that if he had a mouth, he would be grinning.

Bastila shot Malak a look of annoyance. She extended a hand to Aithne. "It's true that the Council created a false identity for you, a soldier under my command. Your subconscious memories were supposed to lead me to the _Star Forge_. We had no other way to get the information."

"Revan never left a trail," Aithne murmured, thinking over the few flashes of memory she had left- Bastila's 'visions'. Her stomach twisted. "She didn't like the risk."

"You mean _you_ didn't like the risk, Revan?" Malak reminded her smugly.

Suddenly Aithne was no longer afraid of him. She glared at him. "Shut up, ugly! I'm processing!" she snapped. She rounded on Bastila again. "You were going to tell me?" The words were a challenge.

Without hesitation, Bastila nodded. "I promise I was," she answered.

Aithne raised her chin, daring the Sentinel. "You trusted me?" she asked.

Bastila gazed steadily at her, refusing to back down. "I thought you deserved a chance to be trusted," she said carefully. "I think you do."

Aithne looked at her handler. For the first time she realized exactly how difficult a position Bastila had been in. Any affection, any trust Bastila had for her was of much more import now than it would have been had she actually been Aithne Morrigan. The bond between them, too, took on new significance. It had not been forged on Taris, but on Revan's doomed ship when Bastila had saved her life, taking mercy on a woman she might have been wiser to allow to perish.

Finally Aithne nodded. "Okay," she said quietly. "Okay. We'll talk later. Right now I want to get off this ship!" She turned to face Malak at last. He looked disappointed.

"You are weak, Revan," he informed her. "I was right to betray you. You are not fit to rule the Sith. A small part of me has always regretted betraying you from afar. I always knew there were some who would think I acted out of fear, that I did not want to face you. But now fate has given me a second chance to prove myself. Once I defeat you in combat no one will question my claim to the Sith throne; my triumph will be complete."

Aithne activated her lightsabers. She could feel nothing now but contempt for the giant of a man before her. Despite his protests, she suspected he had fired on her ship out of fear. "No one will question your claim to the Sith throne but your own apprentice, maybe. And shut up, already! You talk too much." Malak's eyes widened, and a pang of recognition went through Aithne's chest. "I said that then, too, didn't I?" she murmured. She forced a smile. "Well. I bet I can still kick your incompetent butt from here to the Unknown Regions, too!"

Malak twitched, and Aithne's fake smile became real, a little. "The Jedi Council were foolish to let you live," he observed. "I won't make the same mistake. We shall finish this alone in the ancient Sith tradition: master versus apprentice, as it was meant to be!"

He let loose a wave of the Force before Aithne could counter it and froze her companions into a Stasis. It was outrageously unfair to Carth and Bastila, and Aithne was already churning with emotion at having discovered that she had been a murderous overlord and her entire life was a lie, and annoyed at Malak for being so thrilled with the whole situation. She fell on him.

Aithne had never much liked using Force Attacks in combat, though she would when pressed to the wall by several opponents. Ordinarily, though, they felt far too much like cheating, and she preferred to rely on her considerable dueling skills. Malak, on the other hand, seemed largely to rely on Force attacks. His lightsaber strokes were powerful, but they were artless and clumsy, too, Aithne noticed. He seemed to be trying to keep her at a distance as they fought. Malak was continually sending Lightning at her that she had to divert or dodge, though he was also incredibly fond of the Push.

At first, Malak's Force attacks drove Aithne back. She had been tortured that day, after all, and had been fighting nonstop ever since her escape. So a few times she fell. A few times she got stung with a charge. It only increased her annoyance, and every time she went back at him more fiercely than ever.

Eventually, Aithne began to notice certain muscular patterns that preceded Malak's Force attacks. Once she identified these, she began to dodge them. Malak's brow crinkled in bewilderment as Aithne began to dance through his attacks untouched, off the defensive and on the attack now in earnest. Aithne began to grin as Malak lost ground. In the middle of a left-handed back slice, Aithne suddenly let loose with her own round of Force Lightning.

It hit Malak in the chest, forcing him back a foot or so and making him grunt in surprised pain. Malak's eyes widened as Aithne came at him again, lighting up with horrific recognition. For just a moment she paused. She could own him. She was Revan. It hurt to think, and the pain distracted her just long enough for Malak to catch her in a Force Whirlwind.

Her advance was halted, and through the dust that surrounded her, Aithne saw Malak dart away back through the open door in front of her. He closed it behind him.

Rage coursed through her. "Coward!" she shouted after him. With a supreme effort she broke the whirlwind's grip on her. She fell on her feet and hit the ground running, darting around a block of doors she'd seen on the schematic on the bridge, racing to cut him off.

She came out on the side facing the _Ebon Hawk _and turned back towards the closed door. Malak was there behind it, in between her and where her companions stood frozen. Aithne took a deep breath, harnessing her anger lest it cripple her, and passed through the door. Malak beckoned to her as if he'd never run away. Aithne glared at him, and renewed her onslaught.

Malak's command of the Force was running low. Aithne could feel it. His continued hold on Carth and Bastila was draining him fast, and Aithne could sense that even now they were fighting hard against his bonds. She grinned at him.

"Getting tired, Malak?"

"Not so tired as you," he answered. "We shall see which of us breaks first."

Aithne darted and sliced and ducked and parried. She met all of his clumsy blows with a block of her own, but the sheer power behind his hand jarred her bones. He had the reach and height of her, and she was finding it difficult to penetrate his guard. Her eyes flickered up and down, taking advantage of her trained senses to search for openings as she circled him.

She grew overconfident. She was so intent on their swordplay, so secure in her knowledge of his weariness, that she forgot to watch for his signals. But just as she'd finally found an opening, Malak let loose of Carth and Bastila and struck out with the last of his strength in a violent, desperate push of the Force.

The push sent Aithne hurtling into a metal wall. She hit hard and slid to the ground, winded. For a moment, just a moment, she was unable to rise. It was all Malak needed. He moved forward, about to finish her, but the door to his left opened, and a defiant voice rang out, "This isn't over, Malak!"

Bastila stood in the doorway. Malak immediately turned his attention to her. "Your friends do not give up easily, Revan," he remarked. "You always could inspire loyalty." He sounded envious. Judging from the reports she'd heard of Malak's indifferent success with his followers, Aithne supposed that he was. "But even the three of you together cannot stand against my power!"

"For the Jedi!" Bastila cried, throwing her lightsaber in a beautiful arc. Malak ducked in the nick of time, but part of his cloak was singed. Suddenly, another push moved Aithne, who had climbed to her feet, outside of the central room. She fell against Carth, who apparently had been standing there, about to join the fight.

"I'll hold Malak off!" Bastila called. "You two get out of here! Find the _Star Forge_!"

Carth shoved Aithne away, darting forward. "No, Bastila, he's too strong!" he began, but the door came down between Bastila, Malak, and Carth and Aithne. Carth tried to open it, but in vain. Bastila, using her Force powers, was holding the door.

"The door's sealed," Carth said to Aithne, who was recovering herself. "We can't get past! C'mon, we have to get to the _Ebon Hawk_!"

"But Bastila!" Aithne cried, trying to get past Carth now to aid her friend.

Carth grabbed her arm, none too gently. "Bastila doesn't stand a chance against Malak," he confirmed, "But we can't help her. Not here. We have to get off this ship and find the _Star Forge. _That's the key to beating the Dark Lord! Bastila sacrificed herself so we could get away. We can't let her sacrifice be in vain! C'mon!"

At first, Carth half dragged her away. Later, Aithne began to run, tears blinding her vision. As she scrambled up the ramp to the _Ebon Hawk_, she heard the first screams begin. Behind her, with her ears, but also in her head.

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><p><strong>AN: I hope you enjoyed that. Angst lovers, keep reading. The next chapters are going to be full of it. How will Aithne respond to knowing she was once a mass-murdering tyrant? How will **_**Carth**_** respond to knowing Aithne was once a mass-murdering tyrant? Will the crew abandon her? What happens to Bastila? And who is to blame for the whole big mess? Oh, yes, Aithne's life is suddenly much more dramatic than even is usual for her, and there will be tears, and there will be shouting, and there will definitely be trouble in the Carth-Aithne paradise, and Aithne hatred of Revan and the entire Jedi Council. Don't forget to review on your way out! **

**-LMSharp**


	34. Aithne and Revan

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Not mine. Not mine. (drat)**

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><p>Chapter Thirty-Four<p>

Aithne collapsed on the floor of the main room of the _Ebon Hawk_, sobbing and trembling. Bastila's screams echoed in her head across their bond, and Aithne felt shadows of the torture her friend was going through even as Carth ran by to the cockpit.

"Canderous! Zaalbar!" he barked. "To the turrets!"

"Aithne usually…" Mission began.

"She's not up to it," Carth cried. "Move! Malak's back there!"

Zaalbar and Canderous left to man the turrets and Aithne curled up into herself, shaking violently. The engine roared to life beneath her.

_Bastila! Revan! Bastila! Revan!_ The two thoughts played on in an endless, maddening loop as Carth wove through the fighters surrounding the _Leviathan_, fighting for clear space. The blasting turrets sent shivers through the ship as Canderous and Zaalbar fired again and again. Aithne closed her eyes, trying to block out the galaxy. She felt Bastila being dragged away. Bastila was in pain- so much pain, and she knew it would only get worse for her. Aithne felt Bastila's humiliation, fear, and hopeless fury; she heard the Jedi Code playing over and over again in the younger woman's mind.

Aithne had to rescue her. Malak would take Bastila to the Star Forge, Aithne knew. To the very heart of his invasion. In order to save Bastila, she and the others would have to find it. But as Aithne reeled, she realized that she'd be useless with so much pain flooding over the bond she had with Bastila.

Feeling like a traitor, Aithne bricked up the wall between her mind and Bastila's, effectively shutting out Bastila's mental cries. She was left alone inside her head. But now that she was Revan, that was bad enough.

Aithne sat up slowly, hugging her knees to her chest, though the tears were still cutting valleys down her dirty, bloody face. The worst part, she decided, was not knowing. Revan had done amazing things. She had done amazing things. Revan…she had done terrible things. She knew that she'd sacrificed worlds with ruthless calculation, and that when she was a Jedi, the hero of the Mandalorian wars. She supposed she'd tortured people, too, maybe killed them without mercy. Aithne laughed hysterically. _She_ had nearly taken over the _galaxy_.

But she had no memory of it whatsoever. None. Instead, she had nearly twenty-nine years of outright fabrication floating around in her head. Whatever glories and horrors she had actually lived remained a mystery, as well as the reasoning behind them. And how was she to fight the Dark Side now? She'd felt it calling her as Aithne, struggled and sometimes slipped. As Revan, she knew she had caved once. She had gone as far into the Dark as it is possible to go. Mightn't she do it again?

She felt the ship lurch as Carth made the jump to hyperspace. Aithne looked around for the first time since her escape. Mission was staring at her with wide eyes from a seat across from her. Jolee sat at the table directly behind her. His jaw was tight. Juhani was sitting in the doorway, waiting. Canderous and Zaalbar came into the common room, then, followed shortly by Carth. Canderous paused briefly when he saw Aithne still on the floor, and his eyes darted around the room then. Aithne knew he was looking for Bastila.

Jolee said it, though. "Where is Bastila?" he asked Carth. "What happened on that ship?"

"We ran into Malak," Carth said. "He would have killed us, but Bastila sacrificed herself so we could get away."

Aithne felt Bastila's mind straining behind the mental wall she'd built, and she swallowed hard to keep from sobbing again.

Mission gasped. "You mean she's…she's dead?" she asked. Her voice was breathless. She looked about ready to start panicking.

Jolee shook his head. "Bah," he said, in quite his normal tone. Despite the fix they were in, it was reassuring to hear his gruffness. "Don't be foolish," he told Mission. "Malak won't kill her. He'll want to use her Battle Meditation against the Republic. Turn her to the Dark Side, and the Sith will always be victorious."

Aithne's heart sank. That's exactly what Malak was doing, she realized. She imagined Bastila, stubborn, goody-two shoes, holier-than-thou Bastila in a dark robe with a red lightsaber, talking of using her strength against the weak rather than to protect them.

"He'll have her on the Star Forge," she said. Her voice was thick and shaky. "We have to find it before we can help her."

"Not so fast," Carth snapped. "We've got a bigger issue to deal with here. They deserve to know the truth about you. Do you want to tell them, or should I?"

He was looking at her like she was a snake on a rock! The cold stare punched a hole in the heart that had already fallen into Aithne's stomach. "Carth," she begged, "Please."

He just kept staring at her. Jolee leaned over though and gripped her shoulder, though. Aithne took a deep breath. "Fine. I don't suppose there's any point in hiding it." She looked up at the crew around her, swallowing to get the explanation out. "You all know that Bastila's famous for confronting Revan. The Jedi have kept it secret, though, what actually happened then." Aithne let out a harsh laugh. "Revan was captured, not killed, after Malak fired on the ship Bastila had invaded. Revan was injured, so badly that her mind was pretty much shattered. The Jedi took her. Then they basically reprogrammed her identity until she was someone else, someone they could manipulate to get the information they needed, the information only Revan knew." She took another deep breath. "They reprogrammed her until she was me." Aithne shrugged helplessly. "Hello, crew of the _Ebon Hawk_, I'm Revan, ex-Lord of the Sith. Surprised? Yeah. I had no idea either. Not a damn clue." She broke off into a whisper, and her voice cracked.

Mission took a step back, shock on her face. "R-revan?" she stuttered. "What…what are you talking about? Is this some kind of a joke?"

"Yeah. I wish!"

Carth shook his head grimly, still staring at Aithne. "It's no joke," he said. "The Jedi Council captured Revan and erased the Dark Lord's mind, programming in _her_. Saul Karath told me on the _Leviathan_, and Bastila confirmed it."

Mission looked at Aithne, fear and incredulity mixed on her face. "You're Darth Revan?" she asked. "This is…this is big. Do you…do you remember anything about being the Dark Lord?"

Aithne rose briefly to sit beside Jolee at the table. It made her feel a little less small and stupid. "Not really," she answered Mission. "I have weird dreams, snatches of memories. But for the most part I don't even know. _I don't know_!" she repeated to herself, staring at her hands.

"Just a few flashes?" Mission asked. "That's it? Nothing more?"

Aithne nodded.

"Then I don't think there's a problem," Mission said. "It seems to me that if you don't really remember anything about being Revan, then it doesn't really matter anymore. You are who you are now, right?"

Aithne looked up. Mission was smiling encouragingly at her. Aithne was incredulous, and just as she started to feel a little relieved, Carth jumped in, furious.

"Of course it still matters!" he cried. "How do we know more memories won't come flooding back? How do we know Revan won't suddenly turn on us?" Aithne flinched at the name Revan, and at how he wasn't even addressing her. "The whole time we've been chasing after Malak," he continued venomously, "We've had his old Sith Master right at our side, listening to our secrets; hearing our plans!"

Aithne sprang up. "Like it was deliberate?" she demanded. "Like I _knew_? Carth, those were my plans! I haven't been _spying _on you, I've been heading up this operation! Everything I knew I shared with all of you. And don't call me Revan! I'm not her! Not anymore!" Her chest was heaving and her eyes stung again.

Mission stood and walked over to Aithne. She grabbed Aithne's hands and looked her straight on. "I don't see a Sith Lord standing here," she said gently. "Aithne? I see _you_. I see a friend who's been with us through thick and thin! Malak's the one who destroyed Taris. You're the one that saved me from the wreck and held me after."

Zaalbar lumbered over to stand next to Mission. /I agree with Mission,/ he growled lowly. /I swore a lifedebt to the person you are, not the person you were./

"Big Z and I will stick by you," Mission declared. "We owe you our lives;" with a toss of her lekku she looked back at Carth and said pointedly, "We won't desert you now."

"Mish…" Aithne began, but Carth interrupted her.

"How can you say that, Mission?" he demanded. "The Sith bombed my home world! Revan took away my family and destroyed my life!"

"Oh, of course!" Aithne cried. "Because Karath's dead, but you're still angry. Want revenge on me, too, flyboy?" She shuddered suddenly. "I…I won't stop you." Her insides burned. Had _she_ destroyed Carth's life? How many lives had she destroyed? How many were there like him, thanks to her?

"Everyone knows it was Malak who gave the order to attack Telos, Carth," Canderous said unexpectedly. "You can't blame Revan for that."

Aithne hadn't known that, actually. She almost fell to her knees with relief.

Carth floundered. "I…I suppose you've proven yourself to be a friend to the Republic by your actions so far," he told her, addressing her for the first time. But his eyes were cold, and when he tacked on her name, Aithne was sure he did it to hurt. "Revan. But can I trust you? Can any of us?"

Aithne closed her eyes a moment. This wasn't back to square one with him. This was back to square negative five. But when she opened her eyes and spoke she managed to keep her voice steady. "I don't know," she said quietly. "Shall we ask them?" She turned to the old Jedi behind her. "Jolee?"

"What about me?" he asked, as if it were unimportant. "I already knew who you were, though it wasn't my place to tell you. Better off that you know, if you ask me. Does it change anything? I'm not here to judge you. You'll do what you have to, and I'll help if I can."

He'd probably guessed all the way back on Kashyyyk, Aithne thought. She felt a bit better to know he was still here, still fighting beside her, and hadn't attacked her yet. "Thank you," she told him. She gripped his hand briefly, then turned to the short little droid she'd stolen from the Exchange. "Teethree?"

The droid rolled over, and bumped against her leg, beeping encouragingly. Aithne didn't know what he said, but she felt a rush of affection for the droid.

"I knew the little guy would come through for you," Mission remarked, with a glare at Carth. "Droids don't hold grudges."

Aithne looked at her new droid speculatively. Aytchkay was eyeing her oddly. "I don't know," she said, hands tightening over her lightsabers. "How about you, Aytchkay?"

"Commentary:" said the droid in a hazy tone quite unlike his usual crisp, annoying dialogue. "I am…experiencing something unusual, master."

"What?" Aithne demanded, suddenly nervous. "What's wrong?"

"Answer: My programming is activating my deleted memory core," the droid replied. "I believe I have a…a homing system that is restoring it, master."

Aithne tensed, unsure what HK-47 meant. "What does your homing system do?" she asked. The entire crew was silent, watching the violent droid expectantly.

"Observation:" observed Aytchkay, "My homing system is a function of my assassination protocols…that which I told you had been deactivated. This system was not. It seems that my homing system deliberately restores my deleted memory core upon…upon returning to my original master."

Aithne was silent for a moment. "Me?" she finally said flatly.

"Affirmation: Correct, master. Sith protocols maintain that all droid knowledge be deleted before assassination missions, and restored upon return. I have returned to you, master, and my full functionality is now under your personal command." He made a jerky bow. "It is a distinct pleasure to see you again, master."

Aithne hesitated, remembering her feeling in Yuka Laka's shop. "Well…" she said finally. "That makes a lot of sense, actually."

HK-47's red eyes gleamed. "Observation: Indeed. I do hope we shall have the chance to engage in combat together again soon, master."

"Wow," Mission said. "What are the chances of that happening?"

Canderous chuckled gruffly. "Remember we're talking about the Force, here," he said. "At this point, Malak himself could drop out of the sky and I wouldn't bat an eyelash."

Mission blinked. "Good point."

Aithne walked over to the Mandalorian. "Canderous?" she asked. "What do you have to say?"

Canderous' eyes burned with an odd sort of passion. "You defeated the Mandalorian clans in the war, Revan," he said, and somehow Aithne didn't mind him using her former name. "You were the only one in the galaxy who could best us. We had never met one like you before, and never since." He clasped her forearm with his in a Mandalorian gesture of kinship. "It has been my honor to follow you, Aithne," he said. "And now I wonder how you can ask if I will continue to do so? Whatever you are fighting, it will be worthy of my skill. I'm your man until the end, no matter how this plays out."

Aithne was speechless for a moment. Canderous released her arm. Eyes stinging, Aithne bowed. "I am honored," she said, voice thick.

She looked for Juhani, but for some reason, the Cathar Jedi Guardian had retreated. Aithne resolved to go speak with her immediately after she finished here.

So she turned to Carth at last, hands on her hips. She tried to pretend she didn't care, like she wasn't dangling by a thread waiting for his reply. "Well? Are you staying?"

Carth shifted uncomfortably, not meeting her gaze. "Well, the others seem to trust you," he observed, "And I don't see any other way that we can stop the Sith…and I suppose that Malak is the real enemy here…" He met her eyes finally, but there was a wall there. "I really don't have any other choice, do I?"

Aithne clenched her fists until she felt her nails bite into her skin. "You always have a choice, Carth," she murmured. But then she broke. "But believe me, please! I don't know Revan. I'm not her, anymore! I'm me! 'Aithne Morrigan' _is_ me, Carth!"

Carth swallowed, and something in his gaze softened momentarily. "I want to believe you," he said finally, in a gentler tone. "You've proven yourself time and time again during our mission, but this..this is a little much for me to wrap my mind around."

Aithne was furious again then. She laughed, and couldn't stop. Her eyes burned. "A…a little much? For _you_?" She laughed some more, and tears started racing down her face. "A little much for you?"

She shook violently with horrible laughing sobs. She was hyperventilating, and her back and chest ached as she tried to hold herself together. Carth's eyes widened, but Jolee walked over. He grabbed Aithne's shoulders, turned her to face him, and slapped her face once sharply. Aithne stopped laughing and crying, and gave a little hiccup.

"Thanks, Jolee," she gasped.

"Don't mention it," he growled, returning to his seat.

Carth was staring at her in fascination. "This must be even more of a shock for you," he said at last, seemingly in genuine pity. "I…I don't even know how you'll keep going. I guess we just have to find a way to push forward." He nodded his head once and backed up a step. His tone normalized, and the wall behind his eyes came up again. "Don't worry, I won't let my personal feelings get in the way of my assignments or this mission. But don't forget: I've sworn an oath to the Republic! As long as this mission stays on course I'll stick with you. But I won't let you betray the Republic under any circumstances!"

Aithne's knees buckled, and Mission ran over to hold her up. She spat something at Carth in Twi'leki, but Aithne was too dazed to translate. Did…did he actually think that she would give up rescuing Bastila and go join forces with that traitorous idiot of an incompetent that had been her former apprentice, now evil and sadistic besides? Did he think she _could_ do that, even? To the crew? To _him_? She saw from his face that he did, and she felt sick.

Carth shrugged. "So…I guess that's it then. We keep going. We've still got the Star Map on Manaan to uncover if we're going to find that Star Forge and save Bastila, so let's do it before it's too late."

Awkwardly Carth turned and left, leaving Aithne where she stood, dumbfounded. T3-M4 beeped at her, before slowly rolling away. HK-47 lumbered off to his corner, saying something about signing off to assimilate.

Canderous approached, a wariness in his face. "Look, if you want me to go beat his face in…" he began to offer.

"No," Aithne cut him off, not looking at him. "Leave him alone."

"If you want something done right, just ask," Canderous said finally. He left Aithne with Jolee, Zaalbar, and Mission.

"Aithne, he's an idiot," Mission began hotly. "We all know you'll save Bastila and take down Malak besides."

"Hush, child," Jolee said. He was watching Aithne's face. "Lass?" he ventured.

Aithne took a few shaky steps. "Just…go," she managed. But she was leaving herself, and when she finally made it to the cargo hold and shut and barred the door, she finally let the tears flow freely.

* * *

><p>She approached Juhani the next day, en route to Manaan. It was a fairly short trip compared to some others they'd taken, but there would still be far too much time to think, to talk. There was a hollow ache in her chest, and her eyes were burning from sleep that had been disturbed by too many nightmares on the floor of the cargo hold.<p>

"Juhani?" she said, knocking on the door to the Cathar's little room. Juhani was sitting on a stool, staring at the wall. She turned wide golden eyes on Aithne.

"How..how can you possibly be Revan?" she demanded, but her tone was not one of hatred. She continued. "The one…the Jedi whose troops saved me on Taris…it was Revan, leading an army out to defeat the Mandalorians. It was you…"

Her tone became clear now. It was idolism. Revan had been the Jedi then, that had inspired the poor Cathar slave-girl to go to Dantooine and train. It had been her. No wonder then, with her model so flawed, that Juhani had fallen. Aithne felt a stab of regret, and of understanding. "I wondered why you hadn't mentioned the Jedi's name," she said simply.

Juhani leaned forward from her seat, gazing up into Aithne's face intently. "I knew when I heard that you had become the Dark Lord of the Sith that something was wrong with it," she said passionately. "The woman who saved me…really, little more than a girl at the time…the woman who I have come to care for, could never go completely to the Dark Side."

Aithne's conscience moved her to contradict Juhani. "I beg to differ," she said quietly. "I am as susceptible as anyone to the Dark Side. The important thing is…" and she was speaking mostly to herself now. "I'm not on the Dark Side now. And now that I know how far I can fall…how far I fell, I'll be watching for it."

"It is good to know that you have truly changed," Juhani said, not getting the point. "It gives me hope. I do not think now that I will fall to the Dark Side. I only have to look to you and follow by your example and there is no way I can fall."

Aithne shook her head violently. She knelt in front of Juhani's stool. "Listen to me, Juhani. I'm not Revan, some fantastic hero that saved you back on Taris, invincible and infallible. I'm your friend, Aithne Morrigan, a woman like any other, and _very_ fallible. I have made...enormous, _evil_ mistakes. Most I don't remember. But I've made some even on this mission. If you allow yourself to get overconfident, _especially_ in me, you are only setting yourself up to fall. You _know_ the power of the Dark Side." She hesitated. Juhani was listening intently.

"I'm not sure I can hold off the Dark," Aithne confessed in a whisper. "It sings to me. All the time. And now, especially, I'm so angry and hurt and confused...but I can't abandon the Light, either. It's like I'm walking on the edge of a knife, Juhani." Aithne stared into the distance. She felt the truth of her existence. "And the blade is starting to cut my feet."

Juhani nodded, eyes downcast. Aithne felt compassion and admiration flowing from her, along with something deeper and more than a little troubling. "I suppose you would know better than I," she conceded. "But I will never forget what you did for me, even if you do not remember it."

Aithne closed her eyes, desperate to make Juhani understand. "Can you stop it?" she asked. "All the deference, all the respect. Like I'm the best person in the galaxy. Juhani- I'm glad I've been able to help you, both before I remember and back on Dantooine. You're my friend and I want good things for you. But I can't be your role model. I can't be your hero. I won't measure up to how you see me. I'm trying to tell you that now, because if you don't start seeing things the way they are, this won't be good for you. And I don't want you hurt." She looked up at Juhani. She'd frozen. "Do you understand?" Aithne murmured.

Juhani inclined her head ever so slightly. "I…I have never meant to offend," she said. "I realize that you have only ever done for me what a friend and a servant of the Light would do. I never thought that it could…that you…" she broke off. "I am sorry. I shall try to think of you only…" she halted again. "Please," she said finally. "It would probably be best if you just…go."

Aithne nodded. "I'm sorry," she said, and walked out, bitterly crediting Revan with yet another heartbreak.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'm not really happy with the end of this chapter. I've never really liked Juhani. She's humorless and formal and her idealization of Revan is not only annoying but also a little disturbing. Gooey eyed idolism is no good foundation for any relationship. But for all that I've never been able to justify killing her in the game. So I take her along, and I treat her nicely, but hardly ever take her out on mission. Still, in this narrative I've ignored her far too much. Almost all of Aithne's contact with her has been kept out-of-scene, and I haven't bothered with her personal side quest. But her feelings deserve some consideration. In my original novelization I vaguely hinted at Juhani's unrequited hero-crush on Revan. This time around I've addressed it directly, to give Aithne a source of more angst, and to give Juhani an impetus to grow up and move on. Later on she's set to go out on mission with Aithne- I might take the opportunity to develop and rehabilitate the character a little. **

**Otherwise, I'm **_**very**_** happy with the rest. This section of the story is one that I've done a lot of work on, and it'll only continue. I'm thinking about writing most of Manaan from Mission, Jolee, and Canderous' POV, maybe with a page or two of Carth thrown in for good measure. It'll involve a considerable reworking of what I've got, but I think the overall affect will be better watching the other characters watch Aithne process what's happened. It'll make the few moments when I actually write inside her head more powerful. **

**On that note, the next few chapters might take a little more time. Still, immediately next: Aithne, Jolee, and Canderous get a charming little picture of the Selkath legal system. Leave a review and tell me what you're thinking!**

**May the Force Be With You,**

**LMSharp**


	35. Stormy Weather

**Disclaimer: I don't own KotOR. If I did, I wouldn't be nearly so worried about my tuition payments.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Thirty-Five<p>

MISSION POV

It was like a dark cloud filled the _Ebon Hawk_ these days, Mission thought. Voyages between systems were always kind of boring. There wasn't much to do. Well, there were the books she'd wheedled off Master Dorak before the Sith had gone and torched the Jedi Academy. And Teethree's collection of horrible holovids. But there were only so many times she could beat Big Z and Aithne at Pazaak before it got tedious. And if she ever complained, everyone seemed to assume that just because she was the youngest she had to undergo lessons of some sort or other. She'd learned stim chemistry from Canderous, melee fighting from Juhani and Jolee, and Bastila had used to give her lessons in _galactic politics_, of all things. Carth was the worst. Literally every time she came and talked to him he ended up sitting her down and teaching her something, or worse, giving her some sort of chore. It wasn't all bad. She'd learned a little piloting, and a few fancy blaster tricks. But he'd also tried to make her learn physics, math, and _history_ a couple times.

At least, he _used_ to try to teach her all that stuff whenever he talked to her. Carth wasn't talking to much of anyone lately, and Mission thought it was just as well. Stupid, paranoid geezer. But it wasn't just him. Everything was messed up on the ship the past few days, and Mission _hated_ it.

A big part of it was Bastila. Sure, she'd been stuck up and prissy and had totally lied that time she'd said she hadn't used the Force to trip Mission up, but she'd become a huge part of the way things worked around the _Hawk_. Canderous had hated her, and even he seemed to miss sneering at her and calling her princess all the time. Juhani was even more withdrawn lately, and Mission suspected it had something to do with the fact that her fellow Jedi was most likely being tortured by Malak. Mission grimaced, willing the ship to go faster. Aithne would rescue Bastila. She rescued everyone. It was just how she operated, but there was only so much even Aithne Morrigan could do with the ship still flying and the Star Map left to find.

Still, they might have kept up a little normality if Aithne had led them, Mission thought. But she wasn't. She was hurting. Bad. Even Big Z had noticed: when she'd stopped eating so much. He'd mentioned it to Mission the other day. How she only ever picked at her food nowadays, and that only when forced by Jolee, when usually she always ate second helpings, snacks, and desserts unbidden.

Canderous was having to tune up the remotes more often. Mission heard her in the cargo hold. She spent hours sparring alone. Sometimes the sound of lightsabers crashing would cease, and Mission would hear horrible, wrenching sobs. But when she went in to the cargo hold, she'd find Aithne there, dry-eyed. Aithne would give one shrug, but her eyes were always hollow, and she was getting thinner.

Jolee hadn't said anything, but Mission could see him watching Aithne, and she knew he was worried. It made her angry. It wasn't like she didn't know anything was wrong. She heard the moans and whimpers every night, saw Aithne flinch every time she so much as looked at Carth. A couple days in she'd started up to the cockpit, to give the bantha-brained nerfherder a piece of her mind, but Jolee had caught her arm and shaken his head. Mission had stopped, but she was seriously reconsidering. Something had to give. Soon.

* * *

><p><em>I <em>really_ didn't like it underwater. I suspected the last Star Map that I would need to locate to be here on the bottom of the Hrakert Rift, but the whole business had me reaching for my lightsaber. And that, unique and well-crafted as it was, was absolutely useless at the bottom of the sea. Firaxa sharks swarmed overhead, many times bigger than me, ancient and deadlier than even Revan, Lord of the Sith. _

_Many tons of water pressed overhead. I felt the outside of my environment suit straining, and tried to block out the mental image of it crumpling like an aluminum can. Yeah, being underwater made the Dark Lord of the Sith nervous. So sue me. Oh, wait, the Selkath would, if they ever found out I'd stepped one Sithy toe down here. That put even more of a damper on things. _

_But there it was just ahead. I stifled a sigh of relief, even though there was no one to hear, as Malak was captaining the sub above. Such emotion was beneath me. Malak and the other idiots could feel fear. And they would. I memorized the last coordinates that would lead me to the Star Forge. I'd pilot the pilgrim ship myself, of course. I smiled briefly inside my suit, signaling for Malak to hoist me up. Already I could see the world, a new age, free of corruption forming before my eyes. My world._

* * *

><p>She sat up slowly one morning, her face grim. Mission waited, watching her from the top of Bastila's vacant bunk. She'd tossed and turned again last night, but this time she hadn't screamed. Mission had a vague feeling the dreams had been different. They were about a day out from Manaan, now. She figured that Aithne might remember the Star Map there like she'd remembered the other ones.<p>

Aithne smiled bitterly, staring at her hands. "I should probably just tell Canderous and Jolee to find the Star Map," she murmured to herself in a voice that creaked from disuse. "Force knows I'm in no condition to be saving the galaxy. I'm a mess."

"Yeah, you kind of are," Mission said. "You finally going to tell me about it?"

Aithne didn't look at her. "I don't know, Mish," she said.

"You can trust me. C'mon. Tell me what's going on."

"What isn't going on, Mission?" Aithne said wearily. "Bastila's being _tortured_ by Malak, it turns out that I had a whole life that I have no memory of, as a _Sith Lord, _as _Darth Revan_, for crying out loud, and Carth…" she cut off, throwing up her hands. She shuddered, gasped. Then she bit her lip.

"Well, what's the biggest deal?" Mission asked quietly.

Aithne thought. "At the moment? Bastila," she whispered.

Mission swung down from the bunk and sat beside Aithne. "You listen to me, okay? Bastila's going to be fine. You're coming for her. She knows that."

Aithne shook her head. "You don't get it, Mission. I can _hear_ her scream. I can _feel _her pain and fear and hatred. At least, I could if I hadn't blocked it out, just to stay sane. But sometimes I still can't help…" her eyes went out of focus, and her face contorted. Mission watched in horrible fascination.

"You can't do this to yourself," she said.

"She's so alone," Aithne whispered.

"She won't be for long," Mission said. "And when we find her we'll stop Malak. And if she's gone to the Dark Side you'll bring her back. It might take a little for her to recover. But she will. You'll make her."

Aithne turned on her like lightning. "How can you possibly know any of that?" she demanded.

Mission didn't flinch. "I may not have Force Vision, but I got eyes," she replied. "You saved me from Taris. You saved the Wookiees from Czerka. You saved Dustil from the Sith. You're Aithne Morrigan. You never let a friend down, and you're not gonna start now."

Aithne shifted. "You sure about that, Mission? I let a whole lot of people down, once. Killed a lot, too. People that trusted me. And I don't even remember. I have to imagine the depths of my own depravity. Mission, how do I even start to make right all the crimes I don't even know I committed? How do I know I won't commit them again?"

Mission shook her head. "I wish…I wish I could help you. You know I do. But this Revan thing? It's bigger than me, Aithne. You're going to have to come to terms with it on your own somehow, you know?" She sighed. "But I trust you. You're my…you're more family to me than my brother ever was. And whatever you did, you're a different person now. I believe that. I figure…I figure if you stop Malak you're kind of making a lot of what you might have done wrong right, anyway. As for Carth-" she scowled. "I'd like to smack the bantha brain around a bit. Canderous, too. Jolee won't let us. But I guess he'll be an idiot as long as it suits him."

"Don't be angry with him," Aithne said. "I'm not sure how idiotic of him it is not to trust me, or not to want to be with me. He was pretty dead on about the Jedi hiding something, anyway." She smiled self-mockingly.

Mission gripped Aithne's shoulder. "Aithne, he still loves you. He's got to come around eventually! I know it."

Aithne gently shrugged her off. "I don't know it, Mission," she said. "I never have, really. Just…hoped, is all. So much for that." She stood without further ado. "Better go prepare for landing," she said. "We ought to come into Ahto City later today."

Aithne had finally talked. But at first Mission wasn't sure it had done much good. Later, though, Big Z told her that Aithne had eaten all of her breakfast for the first time in a week. And when they landed on Manaan, Aithne did bid them all to come to conference, though she still didn't sound like herself.

When everybody had gotten to the conference room she was just standing there, staring at the wall, as far as physically possible from Carth. She waited for everyone to be quiet, then she spoke in a low voice. "Manaan is a touchy planet. They aren't affiliated with the Republic or the Sith. They try to maintain neutrality so they can sell kolto to both sides."

No one knew if she had studied, or remembered from her time as Revan, or if her pseudo-scout memories had kept her informed, and no one dared to ask. There was an awkward silence, and then Canderous grunted. "Stupid of 'em. One way or another, someone's going to win, and they won't thank the Selkath when they do."

Zaalbar nodded. Aithne looked at them both. "Be that as it may, as of now Ahto City is tense. The Sith and the Republic both have bases here, but no one's allowed to hurt anyone else or they're hauled up in front of the Selkath courts, where you are guilty until proven innocent." She let that sink in for a moment, then continued. "I'm going to allow all of you free reign on Manaan, but I want you advised of this. I don't want anyone arrested, fined, or killed because they picked a fight with some Sith. If you must carry weapons, I'd suggest that you conceal them. And if the Sith taunt you, keep walking."

Mission was confused. "Why would they taunt us?" she asked. "They have to obey the neutrality laws, too, right?"

"Yes, but they don't get arrested for insulting you," Jolee pointed out. "If you lose control and attack them, however, the Republic might lose credit with the Selkath."

Mission grimaced. She wasn't the best at controlling her temper. Aithne merely inclined her head.

"Is it to be the same policy as on Korriban, then?" Juhani asked the table. She wasn't looking at Aithne. "Groups of two or three at all times, searching out information and earning credits?"

Aithne sighed. "You do whatever you want, Juhani. Just…try to be careful." A gizka croaked under the table. Aithne gripped the table hard. "On second thought? Everybody who can be on the lookout for a way to get rid of these things."

"Suggestion:" suggested that crazy droid of Aithne's. "We might blast them, master. It could be good practice."

"No good," Canderous growled. "I tried killing a few. One more just pops right up."

"I think we're going to have to either trick someone else into taking them or poison them," Aithne said emotionlessly.

"Don't poison them!" Mission cried. "They're cute!"

"I also awakened this morning to find one on my chest, Mission," Juhani said. "The gizka must go."

Aithne shrugged. "Be on the lookout. Scouting party with me. Same general plan. We ask around, see if we can figure out how to get to the Star Map. I had another…" she trailed off, and Carth scowled. She closed her eyes. "I had another memory of the Star Map on Manaan. It's underwater, but I don't know where."

Mission crossed her arms. "Who's goin'?" she demanded of Aithne. She could tell already that Aithne needed people with her that would keep her on track and wouldn't hurt her to talk to. She glared at Carth. Aithne looked all of them over for a moment.

"Jolee and Canderous," she replied at last. "The rest of you may do as you like." She started to go, then turned around again and glared at her droid. He'd begun to gear up. "That does _not_ include you, HK-47," she told him. "You are under strict orders not to leave the _Ebon Hawk_ unless accompanied by myself, Jolee Bindo, or Canderous Ordo. And if you are in the company of Jolee or Canderous and _not_ myself, you are forbidden to blast, terrify, or otherwise harm civilians in any way."

HK-47 let his blaster rifle fall to his side. "Complaint: But master, where is the fun in that?"

Aithne gripped the table. "At the moment, droid, I am not interested in _fun_," she said in a deadly quiet voice. "I am interested only in locating the Star Map, finding the Star Forge, rescuing Bastila, and permanently rearranging the insides of my jawless, incompetent, _evil_ former apprentice. Got that?"

Mission shivered. The whole table seemed to focus more, and Aytchkay looked a little impressed. "Statement: I see, master. Reassurance: I will not allow myself to be distracted by frivolities while we pursue our long term goals."

Aithne nodded curtly. "Good. See that you don't." She turned on her heel and left to equip. Canderous let out a low whistle, then moved to follow her. Slowly, everyone left the conference room except Carth and Mission.

"She's taking this whole thing really hard, isn't she?" he asked, staring out the door and clutching the table.

Mission shot him a scornful glance. "What do you think, moron?"

Carth was on the defensive. "Why is everyone acting like I'm the bad guy, here?" he demanded. "You, Canderous, Jolee. You don't say anything, but…she's _Darth Revan_!"

Mission pressed her lips together, holding in the tirade with sheer force of will. She stood to go, but Carth was looking out the door again. "I…I didn't think it would be this way," he admitted. "She hasn't laughed in days. She was always laughing, before. And singing at the workbench. Drove Canderous crazy." He smiled a bit wistfully. "She hasn't sung all week. It's bad, isn't it?"

He sounded a bit uncertain. Mission sighed, suddenly unable to yell at him even if she'd wanted to. She squeezed his shoulder as she passed him on the way out. "Yeah," she said simply.

* * *

><p>JOLEE POV<p>

It was odd seeing Canderous in normal clothes. Jolee had never seen the man in anything without strong armor plates sewn in and weighing less than a ton. Revan's civilian clothes were less of a surprise. On the whole, she seemed to prefer them to Jedi robes or armor, particularly lately. She hadn't bothered with the fancy twists and braids she usually used for her hair. It was simply gathered back in a single tie at the nape of her neck. She wasn't smiling. She didn't say one word to the pair of them as they set out from the Ahto City hangar where Carth had docked the ship.

Jolee didn't press her. Revan- Aithne in his head even though he'd known her identity since the computer had recognized her on Kashyyyk- would come around to everything that was going on sooner or later. Jolee was inclined to think sooner. Once she was doing something, instead of sitting around on an interplanetary voyage, she wouldn't have so much time to dwell on things. So much the better.

Before they emerged from the port, they were approached by a scholarly looking Selkath.

/Greetings!/ he gurgled and croaked in the Selkath tongue. Jolee understood him at once. He'd been to Manaan a couple of times, in his youth./Forgive me if this seems an odd question, off-worlder, but might you have any exotic species for sale? Nothing dangerous, mind you./

Aithne pressed her lips together. Her eyes darted back to where they'd come from. /I might, good sir,/ she replied to the Selkath in his native tongue. /I am Aithne Morrigan. How are you called?/

The Selkath looked pleased to find she spoke the language. He bowed officiously. /I am Nubassa,/ he replied. /I am looking for exotics to show./

Aithne bowed back. /I do happen to have some gizka aboard my vessel,/ she said a bit too casually. /If you're interested./

Nubassa stepped back, opening his fishy mouth once or twice before he responded, /Gizka? You speak of the small, bipedal amphibians with the overly high reproductive rate, correct? Oh, no, I'm afraid I cannot take those. A compatriot of mine made the mistake of purchasing a pair of such creatures several months ago. Within weeks our storage facilities were nearly overrun. If you are in possession of such creatures, I hope you keep them separated. If not, then you have my condolences./

Aithne smiled sweetly, and Jolee fought a grin. He knew how this would go. /Is there nothing I can do to convince you to take them off my hands?/ she asked. She'd layered her voice with the Force.

Nubassa's expression softened, but he shook his head. /I do not think so, no,/ he replied. /They have proven to be far too much trouble in the past./

Aithne gritted her teeth. She manipulated the Force to dominate the Selkath's mind. /But you want to take the gizka,/ she told Nubassa.

Nubassa's gaze clouded, and he stroked his face-fins contemplatively. /Hmm. Maybe we could use the gizka after all,/ he conceded. /It is better than having nothing at all to show, I suppose. Since they are difficult to maintain, however, I would ask that you provide 100 credits. Then I will take them off your hands./

Aithne shook her head, keeping her hold over the Selkath's mind. /You don't need any credits to take them,/ she insisted.

Nubassa eyed her in horror. /What am I thinking?/ he asked, bowing. /It is impertinent of me to ask you for credits when you are attempting to make a sale. My apologies. I shall send some of my people by to remove the gizka on your vessel. Thank you for your cooperation!/

"No," Aithne murmured in Basic to the retreating Selkath. "Thank you." She turned to Canderous. "Run back to the _Hawk_. Get Juhani, Zaalbar, and Carth to help you. Use the empty storage bins in the cargo hold and pen up those gizka."

Canderous nodded and left. Aithne didn't say another word, but charged forward. Jolee supposed he had better follow. Canderous would keep up. The girl seemed to know where she was going. At any rate, she found the Selkath official waiting where the port joined onto Ahto City in no time. There was a droid guarding the door. Jolee sighed. They were going to have to pay some sort of ridiculous fee. The only free thing in the galaxy was air. First, though, the official told them some rules.

/The single most important law on Manaan is very simple,/ he said. /Kolto smuggling is punishable by death. If you are carrying any unprocessed kolto, you better have a permit. The other rule is also very simple-keep the peace. Here on Manaan we maintain a careful neutrality, and we react very harshly to people who jeopardize our neutral status. Any confrontations between the Sith and the Republic are dealt with swiftly and decisively. Is this understood?/

Aithne grimaced. /I'm not to pick fights with the Sith,/ she repeated. Hastily, she added, /um…or persons from the Republic. Yeah. Understood./

But when the official asked for the fee, Aithne waved her hand to manipulate the Force. /I don't need to pay the docking fee,/ she said.

The Selkath nodded, dazed. /Ah, I see. Yes, you do not need to pay./

Jolee had to restrain a smile. "The Jedi Council wouldn't approve," he murmured.

He wasn't expecting Aithne to whirl on him. Her eyes were blazing and her face was white. "The Jedi Council healed my brain wrong. They fabricated my entire existence, and I believed them for about a year! The Jedi Council can _rot_, Jolee!"

Jolee didn't flinch. "I was going to say that sometimes you got to do what you got to do," he said, keeping his voice level. "Young people and interrupting. I mean, honestly!"

The Selkath port official had pressed a button on the panel in front of him, though. /The gates of Ahto City are now open to you,/ he announced with the pompousness typical of his species. /You may come and go as you please, so long as you do not leave the planet. If you do, you will have to pay the docking fee once more./

Jolee decided it wouldn't be a good idea to point out to the official that they hadn't paid the fee in the first place. Beside him, Aithne took a deep breath. She turned to him, reached out a hand. "Jolee-"

He shook his head. "Don't mention it, lass," he told her. "I can tell you, I wouldn't be doing much better in your shoes. Heh. Maybe I'd be doing worse." Truth be told, this was the first time in a week he'd seen her explode even a little, and he was a bit relieved. Better that she process this whole thing, react, and move on than hold it all inside, dwell on it, and retreat from the world like she had been doing.

Canderous jogged up. Jolee raised a hand in greeting, Aithne nodded once, and led them into the city.

Just two hours in Ahto City, and Jolee was beginning to feel like the whole place was one enormous fish stew. Everywhere they turned, Sith and Republic soldiers were squared off. The Sith were attempting to goad the Republic into an attack to make them lose face with the Selkath, and the Republic were obviously desperate to gain an edge anyway they could. A few times, Jolee saw Republic officials paying random mercenaries in a surreptitious and suspicious manner. It was all very subtle and tense.

"Force," Aithne muttered, looking out over one of the numerous balconies down into the Manaan ocean, "You can practically feel the politics roiling beneath the surface."

Jolee had figured that it would be inevitable that they'd get pulled into the mess some way or another. They needed information, and to get that they usually ended up doing a lot of favors and roundabouts. In addition, this was Aithne Morrigan. Darth Revan. And she never did anything quietly and easily, in either of her incarnations. But when the hubbub started, he was completely unprepared for the form it took.

There was a crying woman that had just been turned away from the Ahto City Detention Center. She flung herself down against the wall and began to sob, but she hiccupped when she saw them, and then called out. "Jolee?"

Jolee stopped. The last thing he had been expecting was to run into someone that recognized him. Not after twenty years in the Kashyyyk Shadowlands. He gazed at the woman. She had gained weight. Her once-pretty face was now lined, and swollen and red from crying. Still- twenty-three years ago or so and the woman might have been "Elora?"

The woman stood. Jolee walked over to her, and she seized his arm. "Oh, Jolee, it is you! I…I need your help."

Jolee stared at her. "Elora! Of all the people!"

"I didn't know you were here," Elora said hurriedly. "Nobody knew where you were, not even Sunry! But the Force has brought you here to help us!"

Well she did look like she was in trouble. Crying and all. "Why, whatever could be the matter, my dear?"

Elora clutched at him. "Oh, it's horrible, Jolee! Sunry has been arrested! The Sith have accused him of murder!"

Jolee looked at the detention center. "Murder? But how…"

Elora shook her head frantically. "It's all a mistake, Jolee! Sunry isn't a murderer- someone is trying to frame him."

Well. She did need his help. Jolee stood straighter and gripped Elora's shoulder. "Calm down, Elora. Where's Sunry now?"

Elora took a shuddering breath. "Sunry's being held at the Selkath Courts," she said in a more reasonable tone. "They won't let anyone in to see him. Please, go to the courts. Talk to the judges. Maybe the Selkath will listen to you."

Aithne snorted beside him, and Jolee abruptly remembered she and Canderous were there. "Bantha might fly," she muttered. Elora gasped, and Jolee glared at Aithne.

"Don't worry, Elora," he told her, extricating himself from the woman's tentacles. Metaphorically speaking, of course. Elora was human. "We'll get to the bottom of this and help Sunry…somehow."

He squeezed her shoulder, waved, and walked away. They got about ten paces before Aithne sighed. "Alright," she said wearily. "Who's Sunry?"

"What?" Jolee demanded. "You think because I'm a hermit…"

"You're not now," Aithne interrupted him.

"Well I was," Jolee shot back. "And don't interrupt. In my day, Padawans respected their elders."

Aithne rolled her eyes. "In your day, you were a Padawan that went off and became a smuggler," she retorted acidly. The words stung more than the lass could know. Jolee forced a smile, thinking instead of how the words sounded more like the Aithne Morrigan he'd come to know on this voyage than the somber, silent woman she'd been this past week.

"That's a little better, lass," he told her. "Keep it up. Anyway, I haven't seen Sunry for…I don't know, twenty years now. But he's a friend. A man could've changed a lot in that span of time," he mused, thinking. "But to become a murderer? I don't see it. That's not the Sunry I knew. He was a good man. Put me up in his home for a year back after I left the Order. War hero, too, or so I hear. I wouldn't mind helping the fellow, if we can. I owe it to him. Or you can be a young monkey-lizard and ignore me…"

Aithne's lips twitched up just the slightest bit. "Shut up," she said. "We'll do it."

They headed to the courts. The entire rhythm of Manaan was apparent the second they entered the courthouse. There at the bench ambassadors from the Sith and Republic embassies had just been fined ten thousand credits apiece because six Sith had provoked three Republic soldiers into a fight, and the Republic soldiers had risen to the bait. The Republic soldiers were in the hospital. Jolee frowned. No gray areas, then, it seemed. Getting Sunry off might be a bit of a task. He moved to approach the bench, but Aithne got there first.

"Better that I do it," she murmured to him in an undertone. "A complete stranger's going to seem a better Arbiter than an old friend that owes Sunry something." Jolee nodded. Aithne presented her identification to the head judge, a female Selkath named Shelkar. First the Selkath informed her in the chilly way of the species that since the _Ebon Hawk_ was registered with the Republic, the Republic Embassy was the first place she should check for information about anything. Then, with dignity, Shelkar asked if there was anything Aithne needed.

/Not so much, your Honor,/Aithne answered as smoothly as she could in Selkath, bowing. /I do, however, request permission to investigate the Sunry murder case./

/That is acceptable, I believe,/ Shelkar answered, stroking her gills. She explained how the Arbiter, the job Aithne was asking for, collected evidence to prove the defendant's innocence in the Selkath courts.

Jolee shifted. Proving innocence. Personally, he'd always favored the innocent-until-proven-guilty approach. And would Aithne do everything she could, in her state? "I suppose you're Sunry's only hope," he conceded finally. "We have to at least try to help him."

Shelkar put in a few notations on the computer before her. /So be it,/ she announced. /You are now appointed Arbiter in the case of Sunry vs. the Sith Empire. Your name and position have been recorded in our files. Aithne Morrigan, is it?/

It was amazing, Jolee thought, that so honest a person as his companion was could have lied so well back on Korriban. Just hearing the alias the Jedi had given her made Aithne uneasy now. /I go by that name, yes,/ she replied after a moment. Fortunately, Shelkar didn't ask. Instead, the judge proceeded to tell them the facts of the case.

It didn't sound good. Apparently Sunry had been seen leaving a hotel room containing a dead Sith woman, one Elassa Huros. There had been witnesses in the hotel, and they were currently being held there pending questioning. Elassa Huros had died of a blaster wound, and had been found clutching one of Sunry's Republic medals. As Arbiter, Aithne would be allowed to question Sunry himself, the witnesses, or the judges regarding the case.

/The evidence in this case is heavily stacked against Mr. Sunry/ Shelkar finished primly. /I believe it will take some doing to absolve him of guilt./

Jolee felt he had to speak up. "Yes, but it almost seems to heavily stacked, doesn't it? Very suspicious."

/That's as may be,/ Shelkar replied simply. /Since this is your first case,/ she told Aithne, /and you are an off-worlder, I feel compelled to add 'Good Luck' as my final missive./

/Nice of you,/ Aithne said. She gave a little sarcastic finger wave to Shelkar and went on to the rest of the judges.

The five judges presiding over the case held a wide variety of opinions. As it turned out, only Shelkar herself was unconditionally committed to neutrality. There were two moderately opinioned judges. One of them was slightly sympathetic towards the Sith, and one of them had probably been neutral at some point, until she had observed that the Sith's actions in the war seemed to indicate that they /just want to conquer everything!/ Jolee could see Aithne chewing the inside of her cheek in that interview, but she managed to stay polite despite that particular judge's idiocy.

Two of the judges were polar opposites. One of them was a staunch Republic defender that seemed as if he would rule in favor of Sunry's innocence. The other one was Duulas. Duulas was a bloodthirsty and brutal, dark-scaled Selkath. He outright declared his intention of declaring Sunry guilty, and added for good measure that given his chance, he'd support the Sith with everything Manaan had. Jolee couldn't help nettling him a little, and he saw Aithne's hands twitching towards her lightsabers during the interview.

Overall, though, the interviews with the judges held little promise as far as getting Sunry off went. What Jolee got was that Sunry was in trouble, caught in a political quagmire several meters deep. And they'd have to dive into it if they were to help him at all. Dammit. He hated politics. The only other useful bit of information was from Shelkar. Apparently, she doubted that Sunry would have left the medal in Elassa's hand, even if he was the murderer. It was something, anyway.

Aithne sighed as they left. "We'll head to the Republic Embassy and the Hotel after lunch," she said. "Right now, let's eat."

"You won't hear me complaining," Canderous growled. The Mandalorian had been bored by the morning's proceedings. Aithne rolled her eyes.

"Come on then."

The cantina on Manaan was large, and so clean that it put Jolee in mind of the med bay. To offset the antiseptic cleanliness, there were several mercenaries of various species milling around glaring at one another, along with a couple of loud, drunken Sith. Aithne didn't look at the mercs or the Sith. She simply sat down at a table, and Jolee and Canderous sat down with her.

Canderous called a Selkath waiter over, and the three of them ordered. Jolee and Canderous waited, sure Aithne would speak before too long. Finally, she did.

"Canderous, you weren't in command when the Sith came to the clans, were you?"

"I hadn't reached that point, no," Canderous answered. Aithne studied her hands.

"Jolee. What do you know about the Sith?"

"Bad men," Jolee said. Then he nodded at Aithne. "Women, too, to be fair."

"Come on, old man, you can do better than that," Canderous prodded.

Jolee tapped his fingers on the table. "Well, they make a fine sandwich. But don't tell the Jedi Council I said that."

Aithne scowled at him. "Stop beating around the bush already."

Jolee leaned back in his seat. "And what gave you the impression that I know any more about the Sith than Canderous does? Or you, for that matter. Especially you."

Aithne's eyes narrowed. "I don't know. I seem to have lost all memory of the subject," she snapped. "But you said that you fought them once, back when we first met. I'm fighting them now. Know your enemy. Tell me what you know."

"I'd forgotten I'd mentioned that," Jolee said, sighing. Fighting the Sith was probably his least favorite thing to think about. "Damn the ears of the young! I was expecting you to be inattentive when I mentioned that." The waiter returned with their food, and Aithne paid him. The three of them began eating, but continued the conversation.

Canderous chuckled. "You really didn't know her well, old man. This woman's never inattentive to anything."

"Well, of course I realize that now," Jolee snapped. "So. Fine. I fought plenty of Sith. That was during the time of Exar Kun, oh…forty years ago now? Has it been that long?"

"Were those the Sith…" Aithne's face stiffened. "I mean…my Sith?"

Jolee waved a hand impatiently. "No, no, of course not. The Sith have come and gone for ages. They were not called Sith many thousands of years ago, perhaps, but the Dark Side was always present without a doubt. Oh, sure, occasionally the Light Side comes close to vanquishing the Dark, but the Dark always returned. The fact that Exar Kun was defeated didn't mean the Sith would never return, as they obviously have now. Everyone knows that."

Aithne looked at Canderous. The Mandalorian shrugged, and Aithne looked slightly abashed. Jolee felt a little bad. No doubt the Jedi Council had messed with her school lessons along with everything else in her head. She shook it off, though. "What happened during the war?"

Jolee swallowed. He couldn't bring himself to look at Aithne or Canderous. "That…is not a pleasant time to remember. After Exar Kun fell to the Dark Side, he attempted to recruit other Jedi to his cause. What surprised us…what took us completely unprepared…was how utterly successful he was. Many Jedi joined him and became Sith themselves. Why they did, I…I will never truly know. But they did. Battle broke out throughout the Order…pupil against Master. We fought ourselves."

Jolee saw the children lifting up their red sabers in defiance, once again felt the drop in his stomach as he ended the life of another Sith, once again grieved with the Jedi Masters and Knights and saw good men and women die. And ever present, his horrible failure as she…

Aithne reached out and touched his arm. "Bastila…" she cut off for a moment. "She was right about you. You are a servant of the Light. Better than I. But how did you manage to fight the fallen? It must have been difficult."

Jolee felt sick. "Yes. More than difficult…next to impossible. How do you fight against someone you love?" He looked at Aithne and Canderous then, and waved aside Aithne's sympathy, and Canderous' intense, interested gaze. "Bah! I dislike such memories. It leaves a taste in the mouth that…it is a sadness I thought I had put aside long ago."

"The memories you went to Kashyyyk to forget?" Aithne recalled.

Jolee looked at her. She was so very young. She'd lived so very little of life. Even less now that they'd stolen her memories. He wondered if, when she'd lived as long as he had, if she did, if she would be as full of regret as he was. He hoped not, but the way she was going, it was a very real possibility. "Ask me again about the war some other time," he managed. "Just…not now."

Canderous nodded. "Alright. Anyway, we're no longer alone." He jerked his thumb in the direction of a cloaked Selkath staring intently at them.

Aithne focused on the Selkath irritably. "What do you want?" she demanded. "Staring won't get you anywhere."

It turned out that the Selkath was a minor politician named Nilko. He had noticed the Republic soldiers hiring a good many more mercenaries than usual. /I seek the reason for this change in Republic policy,/ he told Aithne.

Aithne didn't beat around the bush. /You want me to snoop around the Republic base./ Nilko didn't answer.

Jolee didn't like it. "Be careful here, kid," he told Aithne. "Start poking your nose in places it doesn't belong and you might not like what you find."

Aithne stared right at him. "Jolee, I run into things I don't like when I'm just going about my business."

/Believe it or not,/ Nilko offered, /I am a friend of the Republic. I shall do my best to protect the Republic's interests- and those of the Selkath, of course./

Aithne looked at him, and her eyes suddenly went out of focus. She pursed her lips thoughtfully. Then she nodded. /I'll do it,/ she promised Nilko. The Selkath was grateful, and promised her several hundred credits should she bring him information on the reason behind the Republic's new slew of merc hires. Jolee frowned, though, wondering what _Aithne's_ motivation could be. She didn't mention it though, when the Selkath walked away. Instead, she addressed Canderous. "Will you tell me about when you worked for Davik?" she asked quietly.

Jolee didn't know much about the big Mandalorian, but he did know a few things. He'd worked on Taris in a time of shame, and he'd been more than happy to leave. It probably hadn't been a good time for Canderous, and he certainly didn't look excited to talk about it. But the other thing Jolee knew about Canderous was that like everyone else on the _Hawk_, he was fiercely loyal to Aithne Morrigan. So Jolee wasn't surprised when Canderous looked at Aithne's drawn, tired face, and answered.

"Working for Davik was like driving a spike through the side of your head," he said. "Sure, you got something new in there, but in the end you've lost something as well. Beating up people who wouldn't- or couldn't- pay, strong-arming his competitors, killing who he said. It was busy work, nothing decent."

- pay, strong-arming his competitors, killing who he said. It was busy work, nothing decent."

"You killed his competitors?" Aithne asked neutrally.

Canderous shrugged, but he looked troubled. "I've killed many people," he admitted. Aithne frowned. "Don't give me that face," he said, catching her gaze. "You have, too. Guess what? I can't say I'm proud of it, either. Criminals, competitors, businessmen, police," he hesitated, looking away. "Women. Children. Jedi were a better challenge," he said, looking back at Aithne with a trace of a grin, "but they hardly ever poked their noses around in the Lower City. Until you came along."

"I wasn't a Jedi, then," Aithne objected. Canderous shook his head.

"You didn't know you were a Jedi, then," he corrected. "In any case, I never wanted to challenge you, not even when you got bossy or asked to spar. I never felt the need. Maybe I knew I couldn't win…just like all those years ago."

Aithne shrugged, sizing Canderous up. "Probably for the best," she said flatly. Jolee grinned at the double meaning.

Canderous laughed. "Probably," he agreed. "You'd probably have beaten me again. Maybe." He stared at Aithne for a moment, then continued. "But you're not who you were back then. I can tell…Aithne."

Aithne shivered, and Jolee felt something in her loosen just a bit.

"You've changed," Canderous continued. "And maybe I have, too. I remember a time I could do anything I wanted…kill, maim, murder…it was all the same to me."

Aithne looked thoughtful, and Jolee got the feeling that she understood something Canderous wasn't saying. "But now…now that I'm older, I can look back and regret."

"Over what?" Aithne asked.

"All the chances I had as a warrior, and then all the chances I've had since then."

Jolee nodded, but Canderous seemed upset suddenly. "I shouldn't be getting like this, not when so many other things are happening…but…it feels like…like something has changed inside and I don't know what it is." He slammed his hands on the table suddenly, with force. "Bah! This is unbecoming of a warrior!"

Aithne hadn't flinched. She merely inclined her head. "We'll stop talking about it if it bothers you," she said quietly. "But Canderous? I think thought becomes you, even as a warrior."

Jolee smiled. That was more the woman he'd come to know on this voyage. Canderous regarded her, too, then nodded. "Republic really is an idiot," he said off-handedly. Jolee frowned. Carth undoubtedly had some things to work through, but he wasn't sure exactly how wise it was to mention it to Aithne.

He hated being right about things like this. Aithne's jaw set, and she looked away. "That's none of your business," she said in a hard voice. But her eyes sparkled suspiciously.

Canderous wasn't fazed. "Not how you feel, maybe. But Onasi and I had an understanding…"

Unfortunately they were not to hear about whatever 'understanding' Canderous and Carth had regarding Aithne, for another Selkath had come up and tapped Aithne on the shoulder. She turned, a little annoyed.

The Selkath introduced himself as Shaelas, and after some hedging, finally said, /I have heard it said that you are no friend of the Sith. Is this true?/

Jolee went still. That was a dangerous question on Manaan. Aithne knew it, too. Her face was rigid. /What my allegiances are, or have been, is my own business,/ she replied, but held out her hand to the Selkath without rising. /I'm Aithne Morrigan./

Shaelas complimented her on her guard, but insisted, /my sources are rarely wrong, and they have informed me that you are no friend of Malak's people./

Aithne's eyes darkened. /That at least is true./

/I share your dislike,/ Shaelas said savagely. /The Sith have brought grief to my family. I am not a fool. I know the Sith do not respect our laws as the Republic does. Were it up to me, I would do everything in my power to aid the Republic in the war against Malak. But intergalactic politics stay my hand. Still, I know the Sith are evil- and I fear what they will do to my people…and what they may be doing now./

Jolee's ears perked up. /What do you suspect?/ Aithne asked shortly. /What do you want from me?/

/Many of the Selkath have vanished, Aithne Morrigan,/ Shaelas confessed. /Most who have gone missing are on the cusp of adulthood, the youth who will someday lead this planet. My own daughter, Shasa, is among those who have disappeared. These disappearances coincide with the arrival of the Sith, and I cannot dismiss this connection. The Sith are up to something, Jedi Morrigan. I can feel it./

Aithne drummed her fingers on the table. /Recruitment,/ she said after a moment. /To take the planet peacefully. I can't prove it, though. You want me to try?/

/If you can do this,/ Shaelas promised, /I will give you five hundred credits. Not much, but all I can afford./

Aithne smiled a little bitterly. /I'm a Jedi,/ she said. /Meddlers of the galaxy. Did it occur to you that I might want to poke my nose around looking for the young Selkath, both in order to see what I could find, and to hopefully cause the Sith some trouble?/ She looked around nervously. /Don't repeat that,/ she told Shaelas.

/The authorities cannot act without proof,/ Shaelas said, with a tiny smile. It might have been an injunction to gather evidence, Jolee thought. Or a warning not to get caught. It could be either. Or both.

/I'll do it,/ Aithne promised.

/Thank you,/Shaelas said, clutching her hand. /If you learn anything, report back to me at once./

Hurriedly, he backed away from her table.

"Why do you think the Sith are recruiting?" Canderous wanted to know.

Aithne sighed. "It's what I would do," she said, standing. "In any event, we now have no less than three perfectly legal reasons to poke our nose about in all the little hidden corners of Ahto City. What better way to find a Star Map? Come on, though. We'd best get moving."

Jolee stood. "You're sounding a bit better, lass," he said.

Aithne stretched. "Force help me, but I do feel better at the prospect of some snooping, and maybe some Selkath-sanctioned violence." She shrugged. "Maybe it makes me more like Revan. But I'll do it for an Aithne-type cause."

Canderous grinned. Aithne glared at him. "Ordo. We'll talk about you and Carth's…understanding…later. You got that? Right now, though, we need to investigate the witnesses of the Sunry murder trial."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Jolee's harder to write than I anticipated. Hope I didn't screw him up too badly. But I'm glad this isn't in Aithne POV. There will be snatches of her POV in the next couple of chapters, but we don't return to Aithne POV proper until she finally comes to terms with everything.**

**I hope you're enjoying all of this. Please leave a review with feedback. It helps me to improve, and keeps me motivated.**

**May the Force Be With You,**

**LMSharp**


	36. Wading through the Politics

**Disclaimer: **_**n. **_**1. ****the ****act**** of ****disclaiming****; ****the**** renouncing, repudiating, or denying of a claim; disavowal**

* * *

><p>Chapter Thirty-Six<p>

JOLEE POV

Ignus the hotel manager was well-turned out, but was also surly, rude, and seemed uneducated. "You're the one defending Sunry now, eh?" he greeted Aithne without any pleasantry or beating around the bush. "Well the hotel's open for you and I guess I got to answer any questions you want, too."

Aithne nodded. "I'll try to keep it relatively painless," she promised. "Who are the witnesses in the hotel?"

"There were only two other people in the hotel when it happened," Ignus related. "One was a Rodian named Gluupor. Seems like a really dirty, shifty type. Normally I don't let his kind in here- I'm a reputable business man, you know!- but there weren't many people here, so I decided to take a chance. The other is a regular named Firith Me. He's a Pazaak player. Probably an addict, but he claims he's big in some circles. Don't know anything about him other than that."

Jolee processed this. Both lowlifes, not necessarily reliable witnesses. He frowned. This case just got darker and darker. "Thank you," Aithne murmured. "What do you know about Sunry and Elassa?"

Ignus sneered. "Elassa used to come here every week or so," he said. "Then Sunry would come by a couple hours later and stay all night. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what was going on."

Jolee didn't like that. First Sunry was supposed to be a murderer, now he was supposedly being unfaithful to Elora, too? How much had his old friend changed? Aithne merely replied, "Indeed. What did you see the night of the murder."

Ignus answered easily. "The Sith woman Elassa rented a room in the hotel. An hour or two later Sunry comes in and goes to her room. A couple hours later I hear a blaster shot and see Sunry running. He can't run good 'cause he's a cripple, but still he was going pretty fast. I could swear he started after the shot, though."

Aithne focused quickly. "Could it have possibly gone off afterwards?" she wanted to know.

Ignus considered. "No, I don't think so. I mean, it's possible, but just barely. I wouldn't say that to the court."

Aithne sighed. "I wouldn't ask you to. Very well. Thank you for your gracious assistance. I'll see you in court."

She took leave of the manager and led them to the back of the hotel. They found the Pazaak player, Firith Me, first. "You with the Selkath?" he demanded. "You here to see me about the murder, too? I told the damn fish everything I knew. What more do you all want from me?"

Aithne raised a single eyebrow, and the man quieted. "You'll have to forgive me, Mr. Me," she said with dignity. "I just started as Arbiter, and I haven't heard your testimony yet. What do you know of Sunry and Elassa?"

Firith shrugged. "Sunry I only heard of once or twice in passing. Some sort of old time war hero, wasn't he? Seen him around the hotel, too. Going to Elassa's room always, of course. Kept the rest of the building up half the night with their damn antics, usually."

Aithne's lips tightened. "You mean to say they were in a relationship."

"I'm not saying anything like that," Firith equivocated. "What they did in that room, in private, is their business. And there isn't any rule against Sith and Republics seeing each other for personal reasons. Although if you think her Sith Master didn't know, heh, you must be fooling yourself."

Jolee took in a breath, and Aithne jumped on it. "I couldn't think any such thing," she said. "Until just now, I hadn't been aware that Elassa had a Sith Master."

Firith's eyes darted about the room, and a sweat broke out across his brow. "Uh…well…Elassa was a Sith," he tried to backtrack. "So of course she'd have to have someone above her."

"She would have if she were Republic, too," Aithne pointed out.

"I didn't see anything," the Pazaak player protested.

_Press him_, Jolee thought. Aithne layered her voice with the Force. "C'mon," she coaxed. "Tell me."

Firith's eyes cleared. "You know, I think I can trust you," he said brightly. "Heck, I don't know why I shouldn't tell you. One time, I saw Elassa coming in wearing this big cloak," he related. "I was on my way to my room, and she normally wore stuff like that, so I didn't pay her too much attention. But this time I accidentally brushed up against her- accidentally, of course- and her cloak fell open…"

He held up his hands, some of the fear coming back now. "Now, I don't have no qualms about the Sith," he clarified. "I leave them alone and they leave me alone. And seeing as how Elassa had a Sith lightsaber under her cloak, I'm not going to poke that hornet's nest."

Jolee looked at Aithne meaningfully. She inclined her head at him. "That's…extremely interesting," she told Firith finally. "Thank you."

Firith shrugged. "Yeah, but I'm not getting myself in any further with the Sith. I know how ruthless they can be. I'll testify it to the court, but that's all I know."

Aithne sighed. "No, Mr. Me. It's not. What did you see the night of the murder?"

Firith rubbed a hand in his thinning hair. "Oh, that. I was in my room, minding my own business, checking out the latest copy of Pazaak weekly, when I heard a blaster shot. Being still alive- and therefore smart enough not to stick my head out immediately- I didn't go out right away. I looked out after a minute and saw Gluupor in the hall by Elassa's room, and Sunry running like the wind. You can't tell me that someone who was running like that- and he was pretty fast for a cripple- isn't guilty."

Aithne paused for a moment. Then, she said to Firith, "That'll be all. Thank you." She led them out of the hotel room, and turned to Jolee. "It's not looking good," she murmured.

"It's not, at that," Jolee agreed. "But we have to keep looking until we find all the evidence."

Aithne's jaw tightened. "I'd planned on it," she assured him. "I'm the last person to judge anyone before all the evidence has been weighed."

Canderous scowled, but Jolee felt a bit better. He hoped something would come to light that would clear Sunry.

They crossed the hall to Gluupor's room. The Rodian sat on the end of the bed, swinging his legs idly.

/You here with Selkath?/ he asked AIthne. /You have questions for Gluupor? Gluupor already say everything he knows./ His tone was matter-of-fact, and it was immediately apparent that this Rodian was not the sharpest vibroblade in the pack.

/Yeah, well, I haven't heard everything Gluupor knows,/ Aithne told him in his native language. Gluupor brightened. Jolee guessed that he didn't normally run into people willing to speak Rodian.

/Gluupor have no reason not to say,/ he said genially without rising. /Gluupor tell everything. Everything about murder, everything about Sith Lady's room,/ he rattled on.

Jolee raised an eyebrow. That was interesting. Aithne thought so too. She held up a hand. /What about Elassa's room?/

Gluupor's eyes suddenly darted away, and his fingers twitched nervously. /Gluupor just curious,/ he mumbled unconvincingly. /Just curious to see what had happened. Gluupor have no reason to go into room…no one pay Gluupor to do it./

His eyes flicked to the footlocker by the wall, and Jolee had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. /Did they not?/ Aithne chided gently. /Gluupor, did someone pay you to do something in that room?/

The numbskull actually was astonished. /How did you know someone pay Gluupor? Well…Sith man come up to Gluupor after murder, before Selkath arrive. He say he give Gluupor good money if Gluupor put medal into Sith's hand. Gluupor good. Gluupor plant evidence and leave no trace. But Gluupor not recognize Sith man anyway,/ he confided. /Gluupor not recognize humans very well./ He shrugged. /No use to Selkath, so not bother to tell them. Well, that, and the Sith man say he will kill Gluupor if Gluupor speaks./ The poor creature gulped, suddenly looking sick. /Uh…oh no…Gluupor think…Gluupor think he can't talk now. Gluupor feels the need to lie down…maybe just stay here./

"That imbecile," Canderous said after Aithne had led them quietly from the room. "If the Sith don't kill him, someone else will. He's too idiotic to live."

"Maybe," Jolee said. "But nevertheless we have our evidence."

"It's not a shock that the Sith planted the medal," Aithne said thoughtfully, "And if Elassa was a spy as Firith's observations suggest, I can hazard a guess as to how they got it."

"True," Jolee agreed. "It's all very simple, but something seems fishy, even so."

Canderous snorted. "If your Sunry was messing around with this Elassa, based on the testimonies, he's the only one with any real motive to kill her," he offered.

Aithne considered. "Yes, perhaps if he'd discovered she was a spy. But then why would the Sith plant the medal?"

Canderous grunted, "My gut says check out the Republic Embassy," he said. "This whole damn mess is all politics, especially since it's gone to court now." He sneered. "We Mandalorians would just shoot the smirks off those smug fish faces."

Aithne's eyes went oddly out of focus at this, and a dreamy smile broke across her face. Jolee tried not to laugh. Canderous' suggestion must have appealed to Aithne. She could do subtle, but he knew her well enough by now to know that she preferred the direct approach every time. He looked over at Canderous. The Mandalorian was looking pleased with himself, but Aithne shook off the smile. "You're right, Canderous," she said. "I think, just to be thorough, we ought to check out the Republic Embassy. While we're at it we can ask about the Star Map." She closed her eyes, and Jolee felt a spike in her emotional aura and knew she was thinking of Bastila.

The Republic Embassy was spacious and elegant, with low ceilings and orange wall hangings. It might have been an impressive place, but the soldiers there all looked thin and angry, and there were far, far too few of them. Aithne led them up to the reception desk and the tall, dark-skinned man that looked like he was in charge.

"Mr. Wann," she addressed him. The man looked surprised to be greeted by name, and Jolee smirked, seeing the nameplate on the desk. "I am Aithne Morrigan, Padawan," Aithne was saying. "These are my companions Canderous Ordo and Jolee Bindo."

Roland Wann recovered himself. "Master Jedi. What brings you here?"

"Actually, I'm doing my best to save the galaxy," Aithne said lightly. Jolee smiled at her forthrightness. "I'm on an important mission from the Jedi Council. I wonder if you could render me assistance?"

Roland Wann's brow furrowed. "I don't know what I could do for the Jedi Council," he managed, "but I'll help if I can."

Aithne was quiet for a moment. She licked her lips then, and said, "I'm looking for a Star Map," she said then. "The remnant of some old, probably forgotten empire. At least, the Jedi don't know much about it."

Roland Wann's eyes narrowed, and he seemed to be trying to recall something. "An ancient and forgotten race…" he mused, rubbing his chin. "And you think it may be here on Manaan? Hmm."

"You know something," Aithne stated. "Tell me."

Mr. Wann looked at Aithne speculatively then. His eyes flickered to Jolee and Canderous, too, and a gleam suddenly entered his eyes. "Perhaps. But you'll have to do something for me, first."

Aithne went tense. "And what, ambassador," she said in a quiet, icy tone, "would that be?"

Jolee caught disgust, impatience, and anger rising from Aithne now, and he didn't blame the ambassador for being a bit taken aback. He didn't really think that he'd want to be the one that tried to use Aithne Morrigan, now that she knew her story. Roland Wann actually shuddered, but then he continued. "Er…yes. Well. We were using a submersible reconnaissance droid in the ocean surrounding Ahto City and it was…damaged. It took a data recording of the outside of the city before being driven off by the firaxan sharks. But while it was returning to the surface it encountered difficulties and was disabled. Its auto systems floated it to the surface, but we could not retrieve it in time. The Sith were applying subtle pressure to the Selkath authorities for some reason we have not determined, and were able to delay us long enough that they could retrieve the droid before we did. The droid's data centers are heavily encrypted, so it will take the Sith several days, we believe, to get to its data. It was captured twelve hours ago. It is imperative that we get it back!"

Aithne crossed her arms. "Mmhmm," she said, unimpressed. "And where is this droid, exactly?"

"It is heavily guarded, we believe," Roland said nervously, "in the Sith Embassy here on Manaan. Since we have no remaining soldiers to spare…"

Aithne cut him off. "I get it, okay? Before you help me get the Star Map the Council ordered me to find before Malak slaughtered them all, I have to invade the Sith base illegally and forcefully retrieve valuable information you have not the physical strength, the political power, or the gumption to retrieve yourselves." She took in a breath. "See, _this_ is the problem I have with the Republic. Noble-talking _opportunists, _the lot of you." She broke off. "Still…"

Canderous laughed. Jolee stepped up beside her, though, so his shoulder just touched with hers. She nodded once. She stared off into the distance, thinking rapidly, formulating a plan. Roland Wann was staring at her. He looked a bit insulted, very much confused, and just as resolute as before. Finally, Aithne sighed. "I'll do it. How will I get in?"

Apparently there were three ways they could get in. Roland Wann had obtained an access card to the Sith landing bay. They could hijack a boat from there and go in the back door of the Embassy. There was a prisoner they had captured that possessed the entrance codes, too. But he had been heavily trained to resist interrogation. Still, the chore of breaking him was Aithne's, if she wanted. Finally, there were a bunch of Sith access cards that they had nicked, but all were heavily encrypted, and would have to be decoded before she used them. To do this, she would require access to the Republic database.

Aithne yawned as the representative finished telling her about these different strategies. "Think I'll try decrypting an access card," she informed him, and led the others to the back. The young technician in the computer room gave them a few quick instructions on how to go about the decryption, before confessing his absolute hopelessness at it and vacating the premises. He looked glad to break, Jolee thought.

Aithne looked at Jolee. "Spike," she said. Jolee understood at once. He was carrying the healing and repair pack, and he got out one of Mission's many, many computer spikes and handed it to Aithne. Aithne jammed the spike into the interface and began searching the Republic files. She wasn't on the computer long before she found what she was looking for.

"Jolee. Come here. Secret surveillance video."

The tape was grainy, but the story it told couldn't have been clearer. Sunry had aged twenty years, but it was unmistakably him that rose out of a bed containing a pretty, sleeping young woman. And It was unmistakably him that pulled the blaster from the bedside table and shot her dead. The tape ended.

Aithne turned to Jolee. She was pale. "Well, that's that," she said.

Jolee felt sick. Cheating on Elora, murdering that young woman? How could Sunry have changed so much? "It…it certainly is," he managed.

Aithne nodded once, and pulled out the datapad the Selkath had given her to record her investigations on. She copied the file to it before removing pad and spike from the Republic system. She picked up one of the access cards stacked up beside the computer. "Force, where's Mission when you need her?" she murmured.

"You're really going to do this, lass?" Jolee wanted to know. "You could get into some serious trouble with the Selkath."

Aithne shook her head. "Not if I find all those kids that Shaelas thinks they've abducted and prove something's up," she said shortly. "And pardon me if slicing through some Sith won't feel amazing after all this sneaking around, doing favors, and talking nice."

"Damn right," Canderous said.

Jolee frowned. "Be careful, kid," he warned. "You know impatience and anger are weak points of yours, and this is a vulnerable time for you."

Aithne didn't look at him. "A lot worse than vulnerable for Bastila," she snapped. "We're doing whatever it takes, Jolee. And these-" she gestured violently at the closed door, unable to come up with a bad enough word. "They won't help us until we do their dirty work. So- what time is it?"

"Nearing four," Canderous told her.

Aithne was quiet a moment. "We don't have time to raid the base tonight," she said. "That and Sunry's trial will have to wait until morning. But…I'll see if I can't break that Sith. Should be a piece of cake. Who knows Sith and finding stuff out like me, right?"

Jolee wasn't happy with this. "What's the plan tomorrow?" was all he asked, though.

"First the trial," she said. "Then the base."

"The trial," Canderous grunted. "What're you going to do?"

Aithne bit her lip. "I'll have to talk to Sunry first," she said. She didn't look like she liked the idea. Jolee's stomach turned again, and he was ashamed that he felt relieved it wasn't him. "Right now, though, that Sith in the interrogation chamber is of more significance."

She turned her backs on them and strode out, crying her frustration loudly as if she'd spent considerable time trying to decipher the access codes, rather than looked at them for a mere ten seconds. Canderous looked at Jolee.

"What can we do?" he asked, shrugging, then followed her.

The interrogation officer was more than willing to allow Aithne to assist in breaking the Sith prisoner. He was having trouble balancing convincing interrogation against the truth serum and its effects combined with the prisoner's considerable training.

The prisoner was a youngish, brutishly handsome man, sturdy and defiant-looking. The interrogation officer informed Aithne that he had a wife, and that a friend had been with him the night of his capture. "That's good," Aithne said, gritting her teeth. Jolee wanted to leave, but he couldn't resist watching.

He knew she'd interrogated many people before. Not just as Revan, either. He had felt her torture that Mandalorian on Korriban, interrogate him until he broke just for empty prestige. Now there was more at stake, and Aithne seemed more, too. He could feel fear and anguish and pity roiling underneath her stern face, along with flashes of recognition that he knew were ghosts of memories. But her voice was honeyed as she questioned the Sith, though steel threats ran strong just below its surface.

He eventually broke. There was no way he could hold out, with Revan questioning him. But when Aithne typed the code into a datapad and turned away, there was no triumph in her face. Only pure, undiluted self-loathing. Jolee felt compassion for the child. He squeezed her shoulder, but she broke away. "Let's go," she growled.

* * *

><p>AITHNE POV<p>

Aithne was glad Jolee didn't try to talk to her on the way back to the _Ebon Hawk_. What was there to say, really? He was disappointed in his friend, but didn't want him to die. He was worried for her, even a little afraid of her, after she'd made that Sith back there spill his guts. She knew all that. Canderous was excited about the prospect of slicing up some Sith. But he was worried about her too, in his own way. They all were. Well, except Carth. At least for the most part Canderous and Jolee didn't say anything. Not like Mission, always trying to get her to talk. Or Zaalbar, always trying to get her to eat something. Or Juhani with her big cat-eyes that could have delivered a Senate address about her hurt and worry and faith.

Aithne grabbed an energy bar from the cargo hold once they arrived, and sat out again. Alone. Just like before, Carth was the only one that got it, though also just like before, his reasoning was totally crazy. So she wasn't Revan anymore. So the Jedi had stolen her memories and filled her head with lies. So she just about killed herself nowadays trying to do the right thing, and couldn't hurt him or any of the _Ebon Hawk_ crew in a million years. That still didn't mean she wouldn't screw up. It still didn't absolve her of all the nameless atrocities she'd committed. She was a monster. And the entire crew should really only be worried about Bastila.

Eight o'clock found Aithne outside the Ahto City detention center. Elora was still pacing in front of it. Aithne sighed, and went up to her. "Ma'am? I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier. I'm Jolee's friend, Aithne Morrigan. I've…"

"Been appointed Arbiter in the case, yes," Elora said. "Oh, please, have you found anything?"

Aithne gripped the woman's shoulder. "Come over here," she said. "You better sit down." She led the woman over to an out of the way bench in a corner by one of Ahto City's innumerable fountains. "Ma'am- may I call you Elora?"

Elora waved impatiently. "Of course, of course. Just tell me what you've found."

"I've discovered…more than I expected," Aithne managed. "Elora, was Sunry having an affair?"

At first Elora was indignant. Her face flushed. She sat up straight, and her mouth opened in an angry rebuke. But then she seemed to collapse on herself. "Yes," she said quietly. "He started seeing Elassa last year. I…I had my suspicions for a while, but he was careless. Pretty soon everyone knew. But…but even though I'm sure that harlot was only using him, I know he couldn't have killed her. He came and confessed the affair to me. He said he was going there to break it off- to end it. Maybe the Sith woman attacked him and he had to defend himself?" she guessed. She looked directly at Aithne then. "Even though he cheated on me, inside Sunry's still the man I loved…love. He is too kind and gentle to have killed her in cold blood."

Aithne grabbed Elora's hand. "Elassa was a Dark Jedi," she said quietly. "You're right to suspect she was using Sunry. After her…death, the Sith hired the Rodian Gluupor to plant Sunry's medal on her."

"Then he's innocent?" Elora said. Hope flooded to her cheeks. Aithne winced, and pulled the datapad out of her pack.

"No, Elora. He's not. I think you should see this. It's a surveillance video I uncovered in the Republic Embassy."

She played the video. Elora gasped, and in the dark, tears shimmered on her cheeks. "Sunry," she exclaimed. "No…"

Aithne closed her eyes. Her stomach turned over.

Elora released Aithne's hand, shaking with silent sobs. Finally, she quieted. In a dead voice, she asked. "What will you do?"

Aithne bit her lip. "I'm going to go talk to Sunry," she said finally. "I have to know why he did it."

Elora nodded. Aithne rose to go. As she went, she heard a small voice after her. "Ms. Morrigan?"

She turned. Elora looked at her with haunted eyes. "Please," she whispered.

Aithne swallowed, turned away, and kept walking. She flashed her ship's record at the guard at the prison door. The Selkath nodded and escorted her inside to Sunry's cell. The man himself sat on a bench in the tiny room, staring at the wall intensely.

Aithne cleared her throat. "Mr. Sunry?" she said. "I'm a friend of Jolee Bindo's. My name is Aithne Morrigan. I'm your Arbiter."

Sunry rose immediately. "Thank goodness you're here," he said in a quavering voice. "You'll get me off, Master Jedi. It's all a frame-up. It's obvious."

_That _set Aithne off. She held up a hand. "Don't bother," she said quietly, holding up the datapad. "I found this surveillance vid in the Republic archives. I know you did it."

Sunry's entire face collapsed. "So the truth is out," he said in quite a different tone. "I never meant to kill her, you know. I loved her." He gave a short bark of laughter. "Guess you probably know that by now."

"I guess so," Aithne replied. "Why'd you do it?"

"When I found out she was a Sith spy using me to gain information, something inside me just snapped," Sunry confessed. "I waited until she fell asleep and then I…I killed her." He shrugged, and his face was remarkably serene. "Simple, really. I contacted those spies from the Republic to help me. They found the illegal monitoring device that the Sith had planted in the room. They cleared up the evidence."

Aithne looked levelly at him. "But the Sith found out," she said. It wasn't a question.

Sunry nodded. "They must have been spying on me and Elassa," he speculated. "Checking to make sure she wasn't a double agent. They must have seen the Republic spies, and so they planted their own evidence. Elassa must have stolen that Hero's Cross from me a while ago. I thought it had just gone missing. But the minute I heard, I knew the Sith had put it there." He looked at her through the energy bars of his cell. "Now you know the whole story. What are you going to do?"

Aithne remembered how this man had helped Jolee. She remembered the love his wife had for him, even after he'd cheated on her. But when she thought of the tape, and of how calmly he'd shot the sleeping Elassa, she felt sick.

"I don't know," she confessed.

Sunry's face twisted. "You think I'm some kind of monster, don't you?" he demanded. "All I did was kill a Sith! How many Sith have you killed? Dozens? Hundreds? Thousands?"

His words punched her. Aithne flinched. Lashowe and Lahad seemed to rise up from the ground to stand behind Sunry and accuse her. Her thousand other unknown crimes swooped in, too, pressing on her lungs. _Who are you to judge_, a nasty little voice whispered in the back of her mind. _You, Darth Revan, Lord of the Sith? _Aithne let out a strangled gasp.

Sunry looked at her in satisfaction. "I don't see how the two of us are any different," he said firmly. "Elassa was a spy! She was using me to get information so Malak's army could destroy the Republic! She deserved to die!"

Aithne blinked. "No," she murmured quietly, then again, more loudly. "No. You didn't kill her because she was a Sith. You didn't kill her in a war. You didn't even kill her because it was your duty, or because she was in your way. You killed her _while she slept_, because she had betrayed you." She looked at Sunry. "Similarly to how you had betrayed your wife, I might add."

With every word her voice gained conviction, and the specters of her past retreated to bide their time until a more convenient hour. Sunry's face hardened. "I can't confess tomorrow," he informed her. "If I do, it's twenty years in prison! The Selkath…" his eyes brightened. "They might even place kolto sanctions on the Republic Embassy. Without kolto…"

"Those are excuses," Aithne said flatly. "'Fess up, Sunry."

"No," he refused. "I can't do that and put the Republic's supply of kolto in danger. If you turn me in, the Republic will likely lose its kolto export privileges, and then we'll lose the war for sure. Are you going to send all those thousands, millions- like on Taris- to their deaths, just for your sense of justice?"

Aithne glared at him, and hatred coiled in her gut. She saw Sunry's argument for what it was: a puppet he held between him and prison or death. At this point, Aithne knew he didn't really care whether the Republic burned or not. But he very likely spoke the truth.

"I know what I did," Sunry said. "But I also know what's at stake here."

Aithne turned on her heel and left without a word. Elora was gone when she made it to the fountain. It was near ten o'clock at night. Few Sith, Republic soldiers, or Selkath roamed the broad streets of Ahto city. Aithne sat down heavily next to the fountain.

Where were right and wrong these days? And who was she? Darth Revan? An evil Sith Lord. Would she be doing a favor to the universe in general if she just let Carth put a blaster up to her head, as he'd said he'd like to do once? She thought of the people she'd heard that she'd tortured. The worlds she'd heard she'd burned. Force, the respect Canderous and Aytchkay spoke with when talking of Revan indicated it might be a favor to the universe if Carth shot her.

She thought of all the things she'd done, even as Aithne. She didn't know how far that went- back to the _Endar Spire_? A couple of months before? Still. She'd lied. She'd cheated. She'd tortured people. She'd killed dozens and dozens. People that deserved it. People in the way. People she could have easily worked around and left alive. She couldn't even save the galaxy properly without being evil.

Aithne stared at her hands. She didn't feel evil, though. Mostly she just felt confused, and angry, and afraid. But she also felt compassion, regret, and love. Weren't those supposed to be Jedi traits? Light Side and all that? _I walk the knife's edge, and the blade is starting to cut my feet. _On one side of the knife was the Light, bright and hard and good. On the other was the Dark, subtle and seductive and familiar. Trouble was, nowadays she didn't know which was which.

Good guys, bad guys, they were all muddled in her head. Lahad, Yuthura, even Canderous and sometimes Jolee. Were they supposed to be bad? Personally, she found their honesty refreshing. On the other side there were people like Master Vrook and Roland Wann, manipulating her cold-bloodedly for some greater good that really just felt like the same old thing. There were people like Sunry, too. People like Carth, that turned on her in an instant. Were they supposed to be good?

Aithne sighed. That wasn't fair of her. Carth was good, through and through. She was the messed up one in the equation now, and even now, when all was lost, she couldn't stop loving him.

Or the other ones. The ones that really walked in the Light. People like Bastila and Mission and Zaalbar. Like Master Dorak, and Elora, and Dustil. The Republic was a terrible mess. Aithne knew it. But when she thought of the Sith, of Malak and Uthar and Jorak Uln, she knew which side she'd be taking.

* * *

><p>CARTH POV<p>

Everyone was worried when she didn't come back that night. Jolee, the Jedi on board closest to her, could only say that she was not hurt or in trouble, just that she was thinking. They decided she'd return or call eventually, and one by one, the crew members went to bed.

Except Carth. He'd tried to break the habit of worrying about her. _Darth Revan_ certainly didn't need his help to do anything. But…she seemed so fragile these days. So on edge. And she really hadn't known…

But she kept going. And she was going it alone now. Sure, she'd taken Canderous and Jolee out today, but he'd be damned if she'd actually talked to either of them. He figured she'd taken them specifically _not_ to talk to them. She walked around, eyes hollow, jaw set, snapping if she ever said a word at all. And if she ever even looked at him, she flinched and turned away. What was going on inside her head? What was she doing?

Carth walked out to the main room, and found that he wasn't the only one awake. Mission was up, too. She was staring at the wall.

"You think she's alright?"

"Aith…Revan can take care of herself," Carth told her.

Mission looked him over once and laughed. The sound rang out hollow and mocking. "Then why are you still up, geezer? You look like you ain't slept in a year."

Carth looked at the floor. "You said it was bad, this morning. How bad is it?" he asked.

"Pretty damn awful, now you ask," Mission said.

"Don't swear," Carth told her.

"Why not?" Mission demanded. "It's the truth. She keeps having nightmares . Heh. You've seen her. She looks worse than _you_ do, and that's saying something. She's a mess." The words were hostile.

"And what- that's my fault?" Mission glared.

"Don't flatter yourself," she snapped. "You haven't helped, but you think she's happy Bastila's gone? She knows…" her voice cracked. "She can feel Bastila being tortured in her head, Carth. She told me that most of the time she blocks it out. Can't function with it. But sometimes? She can't help checking. And it's…it's bad."

Carth flinched, imagining. "Besides," Mission continued in a harder voice. "She's not exactly thrilled about being Revan, either. The only time she's ever told me anything was just this morning. She didn't tell me much. She doesn't like letting anyone in. She's like you that way. But I can pretty much guess what's going on. She's found out that for twenty-eight years, she ain't been doing what she thought she's been doing, because some _totally wrong_ old men messed with her head. It kills her, knowing she's committed all these crimes but being unable to remember. She said this morning that she has to imagine 'the depths of her own depravity' or something like that."

Carth shifted uncomfortably. "Revan did a whole lot more good than she did bad," he objected. Impatient, Mission cut him off.

"Yeah, I know. You taught me en route to Dantooine that second time, remember? But Revan also did bad. Really bad. And she knows." She looked at him speculatively. "And yeah, you aren't helping, treating her like she's the Dark Side itself after all this time, after all she's done for us. She never meant to love you, you know. But that doesn't make it any easier to stop. She hates herself more than you hate her anyway, and you hating her just makes it about a gazillion times worse."

Carth sighed. "I don't hate her," he admitted. Mission crossed her arms.

"Really? Could've fooled me. You know, if I were her, I might not come back either." She sniffed. "Well, that, or fire your sorry butt."

She might just possibly be right, and it killed him. Carth spread his hands helplessly. "Mission..." Something in the teenager's face softened, and her lower lip trembled.

"Look, I know. But you can't blame me for being a little mad. She's…"

Carth sat beside her. "She really means a lot to you."

"You both do, geezer," Mission said, moving over to give him a little more room. "You ain't been yourself this last week, either, Carth. Stomping around, moping, not talking to anybody. The two of you- you work best when you're together. I'm not saying how. But-" she broke off. "I miss you both, okay? I know I'm always trying to skip out on lessons and telling you both I'm not a kid, but…you're family. I mean, all you guys have been there for me. Juhani. Jolee. Canderous. But you and Aithne most of all. More than anyone, even Big Z. After Taris. My birthday. Helping me find Griff. All the stupid stuff, everyday. Getting me clothes. Teaching me stuff. Treating me like an actual person. Like I matter."

Carth smiled a bit. "You do matter, Mission. So much. You have to believe that. No matter what happens, we'll take care of you. I will. I promise. I…I promised _her_ that, way back on Taris. Aithne, that is. And if I know one thing, it's that even after all this, she loves you, Mission. She's not going to leave you." He sighed. "On Kashyyyk, she told me: '_I'm on your side,'_ she said. She didn't mean the Republic. She meant us. All of us here on the _Hawk_ trying to take down Malak. And- and I believe it."

"Do you?" Mission asked, looking straight at him.

Carth nodded once. Mission looked away. "I hope she's alright," she said quietly.

"Me, too, Mission," Carth said. "I think I might need to apologize again."

"Yeah," Mission agreed. But she leaned up against him, and Carth put his arm around her. And together, the two of them waited through the night for some word. For anything.

Carth woke up when Mission jerked her head off his shoulder in the morning. Her com-link was buzzing. He was wide awake in a second. "Yeah?" Mission said.

"Mish?" came a colorless voice on the other end.

"Aithne, where are you?" Mission demanded.

"I'm at the Selkath courts," came the reply. "Sunry's trial's about to start."

"Aithne? What the hell?" Carth began. Mission held up a hand.

"Shut up," she said. "Alright, Aithne, who in the galaxy is Sunry?"

Aithne's sigh rattled over the com. "Just get Jolee," she said, exasperated. "And tell him to bring Aytchkay, just in case."

"Why do you want the psychopathic droid?" Mission asked. Carth very much wanted that answered, too, but Aithne wasn't having it.

"Mission!"

"I'll do it, I'll do it," she said. "Over and out."

"What do you think is going on?" Carth asked.

"No idea," Mission grumbled, "Better get Jolee and HK-47, though." She left the room.

Carth wondered what Aithne had got up to now as he heard the inmates of the Hawk shift to go to Sunry's trial, whoever that was. In the other room, an irate metallic voice sounded.

"Query: Where are we going in such a hurry, meatbag?"

* * *

><p>JOLEE POV<p>

By the time Jolee and HK-47 arrived at the courtroom the preliminaries of Sunry's trial were over with. Everyone knew exactly what it was he stood accused of, and they'd all heard the testimony of Ignus, the primary witness. Jolee sat down just as Aithne stepped up to address the judges for the first time.

Her face was hard, and her eyes empty. Jolee's stomach sank. "I will find Sunry innocent," Aithne said in a clear, ringing tone.

Proving Sunry innocent was not an easy task. Jolee guessed that the lass had stayed out most of the night working out how to manage it. He still wasn't sure it was the best idea, or why she was doing it. He hoped she wasn't lying for him.

Her defense basically came down to three basic points. First, no one had actually seen the murder. Firith, Gluupor, and Ignus had all heard the shot, but no one had actually seen Sunry kill Elassa. There was only the Sith camera to bear witness to that, and Aithne didn't make the video public to the court. Next, Aithne had Firith testify to Elassa being a spy, and Sunry confess that he had found out. From there, she had Gluupor admit to planting the medal. The Selkath knew the Sith, as neutral as they said they were. Aithne was able, if only just, to insinuate that Elassa was a spy, and that the Sith were framing Sunry.

He got off. /This court hereby finds Sunry innocent of the murder of the Sith Elassa,/ Shelkar announced, bringing down the gavel.

"Your honors!" the Sith prosecutor protested. He'd really tried very hard to convict Sunry, Jolee thought. Maybe for Elassa, maybe to bring down the Republic, but he'd tried. "No!"

/Silence!/ one of the judges ordered him.

/The verdict has been delivered and this trial is now over,/ Shelkar insisted.

The shackles binding Sunry were removed. He went to his wife, who embraced him. "Sunry!" she whispered. "I'm so glad."

"Elora," Sunry said.

Jolee frowned. It would have pleased him better to get off an innocent man, the friend he'd known years ago. He walked over to Sunry, and Aithne joined him. "We have done all we could for you, old friend," he said. Sunry averted his eyes, and Jolee saw that his old friend knew that he knew.

"Thank you for saving…" he began to Aithne.

"Don't thank me," Aithne cut him off. "If it hadn't been for what you did for Jolee and for the Republic, I would have seen you punished to the utmost for what you've done." She kept her voice low, but her words punched. "Get out of here. You make me sick."

Sunry took a step back. "I…I see. The Republic will not forget what you have done for us," he offered. "We'll…we'll leave here. Leave this behind."

Aithne stared at him. "Jump planets if you must," she said quietly. "The blood of your lover will never leave your hands, nor will the shadow of your betrayal leave your wife's face. Let these be your punishments."

Sunry looked over at Elora, but she didn't meet his gaze. Jolee nodded once, satisfied, and didn't say anything. A vague discomfort flitted across Sunry's face, but then he nodded, and with Elora, he left.

"That was well done, lass," Jolee observed to Aithne.

"Query:" Aytchkay inquired. "You don't like that meatbag, do you, master? May I shoot him? Please say I may!"

Aithne sighed. "HK-47, we're going to go to a place where you'll be able to shoot near everything you see," she told the droid in an undertone.

"Exclamation: Delightful! Oh, master, you are too good!"

It took the three of them a while to cross Ahto City to the Sith Embassy. When they got there, though, Aithne quietly told the Sith official manning the desk the password, and expressing mild surprise, he let her in.

Of course their good luck didn't hold. The password Aithne had extracted from the guard the night before was an older one, and in a trice Aithne's promise to HK-47 was fulfilled. The entire base was on high alert. They had dirt to dig up and droid information to find. When Aithne and Jolee couldn't come up with a plausible reason for their visit, or provide suitable credentials, the entire base attacked.

Jolee didn't particularly care for times like this. Wanton slaughter was much more Canderous' or HK-47's cup of tea than his. Indeed, as Revan's psychopathic droid blasted Sith left and right, he frequently let out exclamations of glee, and expressed wishes that they might do this sort of thing more often. For Aithne's part, she cut through Sith troops with a brutal apathy as uncharacteristic of her as her recent silence and gravity. They were all spattered with gore, and Aithne's hair was flecked with blood and sweat by the time they found the droid they were looking for. But they kept going. And far in the back, in a little enclave all their own, they found Selkath.

For the first time Aithne showed a flicker of interest, as they ran into young Selkath that matched Shaelas' description. They were perhaps the equivalent of human children fifteen or sixteen years of age. They also attacked on sight.

"Aytchkay!" Aithne shouted. "Hold. Stun, don't kill!"

"Statement:" the droid replied. "How disappointing, master. And I was having such fun." Nevertheless, he switched the setting on his blaster rifle.

The Selkath dropped, and Aithne stepped over their unconscious bodies and began to poke around the little establishment. It was formatted in the shape of a cross, with four rooms leading off in different directions. "Try that one," Jolee said, picking out one at random,

Aithne nodded, picking the lock to get inside. She gasped upon entry, and Jolee swallowed hard. No fewer than four bloody, mutilated Selkath children lay sprawled on the floor. Three of them looked to be dead already. But one blinked up at Aithne. She knelt beside him.

/Master…Jedi…/he croaked. /Tell Shasa…/ he reached bloody webbed fingers up to Aithne and pressed something into her hand. /The Sith…/ he gasped, and then his eyes rolled back into his head.

Aithne held up the item the Selkath kid had given her. It was a small coral charm. She nodded once and tucked it into a pocket. "I'm glad we came," she muttered. "C'mon."

She led them into another room, where they found the master of the base, along with two other Selkath apprentices and two trained Jedi . "Aytchkay?" she directed. "Kill the Sith. Stun the Selkath. Got it?"

"Resignation: If I must, master."

Jolee incapacitated the guards with the Force. Aytchkay shot and stunned them. Then they were face to face with the master of the base. "Who dares disturb…" he began. Then he looked over Aithne, and flinched. "Wait…aren't you…"

Aithne jerked her head. "Yeah," she said, hitting him with a jolt of Force Lightning right in the chest. Jolee followed the attack with an onslaught of his own. Aithne jumped to him and delivered a crippling overhead blow, and the Sith ambassador died.

Aithne stood there, looking down at him contemptuously. "He could kill children well enough," she said. "But when it came to a real opponent? Coward." She kicked the body aside viciously.

"He knew who you were," Jolee said.

"Aithne Morrigan or Revan, it doesn't make much difference. Any Sith with any communication from Malak whatsoever wants me dead. More than ever now, probably, now that he's got Bastila." Aithne said shortly. She was going through the office systematically now. She stopped when she found a datapad. "Here's the plan, Jolee. This is our pass out of here." She waved it once, then put it with the rest of the datapads. "The Selkath youth- what ones the Sith haven't killed and we haven't knocked out- are across the hall. About the only things in the base left alive."

She led the way across the hall, and sliced the locked door. There were maybe six of them there. These didn't attack. They took in Aithne and Jolee's battle-worn appearance and the fearsome rust-red droid. One, a neatly dressed female, spoke up.

/What are you doing here? Only masters and apprentices are allowed in here./

/That would be standard,/ Aithne replied. /The Sith don't want you getting any dangerous ideas. You're easier to control that way. I'm…well, you can call me Aithne Morrigan. You're Shasa?/

The Selkath girl stepped back. Now she looked annoyed instead of puzzled. /Did my father send you?/ she demanded. /Go away! The Sith are teaching us mastery of the Force. Our alliance with the Sith will bring strength to Manaan and the Selkath people./

Aithne snorted. Jolee looked warningly at her. She wasn't going about this right. /Alliance. Right. Seems to me that you've been locked up and are in the process of being brainwashed. This kid in the other room gave me something for you./

She handed over the coral charm. Shasa examined it, and grief and bafflement flitted across her scaly face. /Galas?/

One of the other Selkath examined the charm. /This is his,/ he confirmed. /I gave it to him when we were children. There's blood on it./

/Galas…he chose to leave,/ Shasa said. /The Sith returned him to Ahto City./ But she didn't sound like she really believed it. Jolee felt a little more hopeful, particularly when Aithne kept her answer gentle.

/The Sith are lying to you, Shasa. I know. It's all techniques I taught them, or so I presume./ She glanced at Jolee, uncertain. He shook his head.

"No, you're right." Aithne grimaced. Shasa looked at Aithne oddly.

Aithne shrugged. /I was Darth Revan, once./

Shasa's face, which had been showing signs of belief, hardened. /Yeah, right./

/Don't believe me? I found that pin on Galas. He'd been tortured. Now he's dead./

/You…you could have found it anywhere,/ Shasa protested, though some of the others were shifting uncomfortably. /For all we know, you killed Galas!/

Aithne shook her head. /You're smarter than that, Shasa. I had nothing to gain by killing him. I'm not trying to take over your planet. What's one Selkath boy to me?/

It was the wrong tack again. Shasa was backing up, going towards the footlockers. Presumably she sought her weapon. Aithne sighed. /But I see you don't believe me. Here then./ She got out the datapad she'd retrieved in the other room. /This, I think, belonged to the Sith Master I just killed./ She tossed it over to the Selkath girl. Shasa caught it deftly, and looked over it quickly.

/It is the master's own datapad!/ she exclaimed. /They speak the truth!/ she proclaimed to the others upon further perusal of the detailed report /I…I cannot believe it,/ she said presently.

/The evidence is overwhelming,/ another Selkath observed dazedly.

/The Sith wanted to use us to betray Manaan!/ Shasa cried, outraged. She turned to Aithne, and bowed low. /I must apologize for doubting you. The Sith are truly as evil as you claimed./

/We must report this to the Ahto City authorities,/ one of the other Selkath observed.

/Yes,/ Shasa agreed, grabbing a pack from a locker. The other Selkath followed suit. /We'll leave at once. We thank you, for showing us the truth,/ she said graciously to Aithne. /You have saved us from a terrible mistake./ The other Selkath proceeded her out the door, but Shasa hesitated. /Um…are you really Revan?/ she asked.

Aithne sighed. /Yes,/ she repeated.

/And you are trying to save the galaxy to atone for your past crimes?/

Aithne's face darkened. /Something like that, yes./ Jolee clapped her shoulder, and Shasa gave Aithne a long measuring look.

/I don't envy you,/ she said simply. /I can stay here no longer. I must flee this foul Embassy and warn our people against the plot to corrupt the Manaan youth./

Aithne nodded. /You won't have any trouble on the way out,/ she assured the girl. /I took care of it./

"Be careful with the gifts the Sith have taught you," Jolee called after Shasa. "Beware the Dark Side, or you may end up betraying your world regardless."

Shasa eyed Jolee with misgiving. /Yes…well. Um. Thank you!/ And she was gone.

Aithne sighed, picking up the datapad Shasa had left behind. "We'd best be going, too," she told the others. "We have to get back to the _Hawk_ before some government official realizes that we've torn this place apart."

Famous last words, Jolee thought, as they emerged from the Sith base to the barrels of about five blasters. The Selkath surrounded them.

/Freeze, human!/ one demanded. /You are under arrest!/

* * *

><p><strong>AN: All Manaan has been more extensively modified than anything else in this reboot. I'm particularly happy with the Carth-Mission stuff I've added. It needed to exist, and it didn't before. Anyway, I hope you're enjoying this. Leave a review!**

**May the Force Be with You,**

**LMSharp**


	37. Aluminum Can in a Trash Compactor

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to this chapter. Or any of it. That would be Bioware and Lucasfilm.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Thirty-Seven<p>

MISSION POV

"You're kidding me," Mission said into the com-link. "I'll get them. We'll be down in ten minutes."

"What is happening?" Juhani asked her from her alcove.

Mission rolled her eyes. "Aithne's in jail for, and I quote, 'the grievous murder of many Sith'."

Carth grabbed his blasters. "Well let's go," he said. "We'll bust her out!"

"She doesn't want us to," Mission said, shaking her head. "Besides, without Jolee and Aytchkay, we don't have the firepower."

Canderous scowled. "That's never stopped us before. There's me, isn't there? Carth, Zaalbar, and Juhani aren't to be sneezed at either."

"Thanks for that," Carth said.

"You guys, she's on death row. You think it'll be easy to get her out from heavy guard? Her trial's in half an hour. She says some uppity Selkath Arbiter tried to represent her, but she declined him and is representing herself and Jolee. We ought to be there as, I don't know, character witnesses or something."

Carth snorted. "Character witnesses? This is Revan we're talking about here."

Mission and Canderous both scowled at him. He looked down, but continued. "Yeah, so she's Aithne, too. But even Aithne is probably very guilty of murdering Sith."

"So we'll lie, genius," Mission said, exasperated. "Let's just go, already."

They were there when the Selkath guards ushered Aithne, Jolee, and HK-47 into the court room. The three of them were weaponless, but they walked tall anyway, and Mission decided that the fish-faces couldn't have been too cruel.

The head judge, Shelkar or something, looked at Aithne with something approaching disappointment. /Aithne Morrigan, you have chosen to defend yourself and your companions in this case. You stand accused of the murder of many Sith. How do you plead?/

Well, Mission didn't exactly speak Selkath, but Carth said that was what she said. He continued to translate from beside Mission, voice tense, as Aithne began to speak. "She says there were mitigating circumstances."

One of the judges seemed to laugh. Carth frowned. "That one's making fun of her," he told Mission. "He doesn't want to let her off."

Aithne threw her head back proudly and continued on. "There was evidence," Carth murmured, "Of a plot to corrupt the missing Selkath youth- I didn't know they'd gone. Anyway, she went into the base to find out whether it was true or not. She says the Sith attacked her first, and the Selkath can look up the tapes if they don't believe her. She only defended herself in the pursuit of vital information. And she found it."

The head judge said something. Mission didn't need Carth to tell her that it was a demand for details. Aithne went to a guard holding her pack and removed a datapad. She waved it in the air, and croaked something. Shelkar croaked something back. Aithne walked up to the bench, placed the datapad on the podium, and retreated back to her place. Mission hid a smile.

"Force, she's good," she whispered to Carth and Zaalbar. "Bet she just found that at the base and came up with this whole story to get off for killing 'em all."

/Keep your voice down!/ Zaalbar growled.

The judges whispered together for a moment. Finally, Shelkar looked over at Aithne, Jolee, and HK-47. "She's done it," Carth murmured. "Whatever was in that datapad, it was good. They're releasing her without penalty."

Aithne bowed ironically as a Selkath came to release their bonds and return their weapons. She walked over to the rest of the crew.

"I'm going to go back to the _Hawk_, get out of these clothes, take a shower, eat some food, and hit the sack. Please and thank you."

Mission looked Aithne over. The woman was spattered in blood. Not all of it belonged to others. Her hair was greasy with sweat, and she was thin, pale, and tired looking. But her eyes had a bit of their old snap, and a smile lurked in the corner of her mouth.

She stood up and grabbed Aithne's hands. "And just what was that all about, huh?" she demanded. "Staying out all night, getting tossed in the slammer? Oh, come here." Regardless of blood and sweat, Mission hugged Aithne tight. Aithne squeezed her once. "Are you back?" Mission asked quietly.

Aithne kept her arm around Mission, but began walking back to the _Hawk_. "I'm doing my best, Mission. I'm doing my best."

Canderous let out an approving grunt. Jolee smiled a little wistfully, and grumbled something about how quickly young people bounced back these days. But then Carth caught Aithne's eye, and Mission felt Aithne go tense. The smile left the corner of her mouth, and she looked away from Carth quickly. Mission didn't, though, and she saw the hurt spasm across his face.

* * *

><p>CARTH POV<p>

Carth knew he'd messed up. He'd made a bigger mistake than he'd made yet with Aithne, but it didn't hit him just how far he'd set them back until Aithne contacted him over the _com-link_ before he'd even heard the ramp go down on the _Hawk_ in the morning. "Tell the others I'm out," she said bluntly. "Big Z and Canderous are with me. We're going for the Star Map."

Carth was nonplussed. Big Z and Canderous? What use would _they_ be on Manaan? Diplomats and Selkath and water, and she was taking _Big Z and Canderous_? And the _com-link_. Honestly. "Rev…Aithne," he began. "We need to talk."

"Not now we don't," Aithne said. "Maybe not ever. Just tell them, okay?"

Carth sighed. "I'll tell them. Aithne? Be safe."

The silence crackled for a moment. "Over and out," she said finally.

Carth sunk down in his chair. He really didn't hate her. He couldn't. And the past two days all he could think about was about how badly he'd let Aithne down. Maybe Mission was right.

* * *

><p>CANDEROUS POV<p>

Revan was sulking again. For the greatest warrior Canderous had ever met, she did that far too often. It was sometimes hard to remember that she wasn't just a killing machine, but also a very young woman. Now, he got that Republic had really screwed up or whatever. As far as Canderous was concerned, with the way Onasi acted towards Aithne, the things he said to her, he should've gotten the vows over with and a baby made already. That's how they did things in the clans, anyway. And if Carth didn't straighten things out with Aithne soon, Canderous would knock his teeth out, Bindo be damned, but still! Revan had no business letting whatever was going on between the two of them affect her day-to-day business. She hadn't said a damned word in ten minutes. It wasn't as if Canderous minded. He could do without all the inane chatter Aithne and Mission and Jolee seemed to live their life with, but he'd gotten used to it from them, and it was throwing him off.

Anyway, she had to speak up when they got to the Republic Embassy. Wann looked up, and his expression reminded Canderous of the kath hounds on Dantooine- eager and greedy and more than a little bit stupid. "Have you managed to retrieve the data from our droid in the Sith base?" he asked without preamble.

Aithne scowled. "Nice to see you, too, Mr. Wann," she said. "I killed dozens of Sith. I got arrested. I was nearly killed by the Selkath whose neutrality laws I broke and got off on a technicality of a crazy coincidence, but yes. I got your precious data." She tossed the data Canderous assumed she'd picked up in the base yesterday on the table.

Wann examined the chip for several seconds. "Excellent," he said finally. "It does not appear to have been tampered with. So the Sith did not manage to copy its contents yet." He looked up at Aithne and her companions at last. "Hello, Ordo, is it?" Canderous jerked his head. "And a…a Wookiee."

"Zaalbar," Aithne told him. "Another of my companions."

"Not a slave, I hope."

Zaalbar didn't even roar in indignation. Aithne was already correcting Roland Wann. "No. A dear friend. An honorable prince of Kashyyyk. He follows because of a life debt."

Roland Wann looked at her curiously. "You…you aren't a traditional Jedi, are you?" he asked.

Canderous caught a bit of nervousness in his voice and smiled grimly. Aithne stared at Wann. "That's my affair. I give my word of honor that I'm not a Sith, however. And if you help me, you may very well help to win this war and save the galaxy. So. The information you promised me, if you please."

Roland Wann looked intently at her a minute, then checked a few files on his desk. "You did kill all the Sith at the base," he said in mild surprise. "And you freed Sunry yesterday morning. Very well. We are not supposed to speak of this, but we have exhausted all the other options, and you do seem…capable."

Canderous snorted. "That's one way to put it."

Aithne shot him a glance of annoyance. He stared back at her. "Get on with it, representative," she told Wann.

Roland Wann looked angered, but he continued. "The Republic is fighting for its very existence against the evil of the Sith Empire," he said. "As you also undoubtedly know, we are doing very poorly. We need much in the way of supplies and material to stem the tide of battle and bring us victory. Manaan is the sole source of kolto, the most powerful medical substance in the galaxy. Frankly, we need as much of it as we can get."

Canderous smelled a rat, and Zaalbar let out a faint growl. Aithne crossed her arms. "I see. What did you do?"

Roland made it a point not to look at her. "The Selkath conservatives with their neutrality treaties seek to treat the Sith and the Republic equally. This includes kolto exports. But a few more far-sighted Selkath see that if the Sith are ever allowed to win, the galaxy will be plunged into Darkness and there would be nothing to stop them from taking Manaan anyway. So we made a deal."

Canderous wasn't surprised. But he was a little impressed. He would have thought that the Republic would be too cowardly to resort to such trickery as Wann was implying. Aithne didn't like it, though. "You violated the treaty," she said flatly.

"Shh!" Roland commanded. "Not so loud!" He looked at the walls nervously. "Yes, it is a technical violation of the treaty, but it is sanctioned by elements of the Selkath government. We need only keep it hidden from the Sith. We recently began construction of a secret underground facility to harvest kolto directly at its source. We also hope to one day be able to synthesize it effectively. Current techniques are insufficient for the task, so we must mine it for now."

Aithne just stared at him.

Wann continued defensively. "The amount we take would hardly be noticed, since most is lost naturally before it reaches the surface anyway. We were nearing completion of the base when the digging teams reported some sort of obstruction. An ancient building or artifact. Possibly your 'Star Map'."

Emotion flashed across Aithne's face. Canderous shifted. He could understand why Revan wanted to take down Malak, but he knew right now she was more worried about the Princess. And the reasons for that escaped him. They wouldn't kill her. Wasn't that enough? "I have to go get it!" Aithne cried.

"Wait a minute," Wann said. "Transmissions from the base were cut off abruptly after that, and we haven't heard from the station since."

Aithne gripped the desk. "So something happened. What?"

Wann sighed. "We don't know," he admitted. "We just don't know. We've been hiring mercenaries to investigate, but none have returned. Neither have our own men. We sent that droid, but no luck."

Aithne went very still. "So now you're sending us," she said quietly.

Canderous shrugged. He actually rather admired the representative's shrewd handling of unexpected resources. "I took the liberty of having a submersible prepared for your departure," Wann said. "Here is a card to get past security. The submersible has been programmed to take you down, and up, should you need something. I would send soldiers…" he shifted uncomfortably, and Canderous changed his mind. The man was a coward.

Aithne snorted. "But you don't have them to spare."

Wann nodded guiltily. "And the Sith are bribing our mercenaries away," he added.

"So I'm on my own."

"I do apologize," Roland Wann said. "But please, while you search for your Star Map, find out what happened to the facility. There may yet be some survivors."

Aithne nodded brusquely. "I won't go out of my way," she promised. "But I'll tell you what I find out."

Roland grimaced. "That's fair. Good luck in your efforts."

Aithne led them a little ways from the desk and brought up her com-link. "Mish?" she said.

Canderous looked at Zaalbar. The Wookiee was frowning. "Yeah?"

"Looks like another big assignment has jumped into our path down here. Um…if we're not back in twenty-four hours, get together with Juhani and Carth and decide what to do."

Canderous scowled. "Stuff it!" Vao retorted fiercely. "That's you, Zaalbar, and Canderous down there, isn't it? You'll be fine!"

Zaalbar gave whatever passed for a laugh with him. /Aithne, don't torment her,/ he said loudly. Canderous had learned to understand him out of self-defense back on Dantooine. /Of course we'll be fine, Mission./

"Kid, I got no intention of dying," Canderous added. "Or of letting anyone else die." He hit Aithne on the arm. "Shut up," he told her.

Aithne glared at him. "Fine," she said. "We'll boldly go where no Republic soldier or merc has gone and lived to tell the tale, and we'll return triumphant heroes tomorrow afternoon."

"That's right!" Mission agreed vehemently. "Over and out."

Aithne put the com-link up, scowling. "Well, excuse me for wanting to inform the crew of what we were doing," she muttered.

"That's bunk," Canderous said. "You could've put it any way other than the way you said it, Morrigan, and it would've sounded better. And why'd you call the kid up? She's been worried sick as is. You should've called Onasi. Or Bindo. Or even that Cathar."

Aithne looked away, jaw tight. Canderous walked ahead to the sub bay Wann had indicated. "He's damn miserable too, you know," he called back over his shoulder. "You'll have to forgive him eventually."

Aithne's steps increased, and she passed him. Zaalbar clapped Canderous on the back, and strong as he was, Canderous buckled a little. /She will,/ Zaalbar said. /Soon, I think./

The Manaan ocean was Canderous' sort of place. No courts. No embassies. Just a whole lot of sharks. Bubbles of kolto rose up as they motored through the murky waters near the Hrakert Rift. The place had a lonely, dangerous sort of beauty.

When the sub finally docked on the underground base, Zaalbar insisted on stepping out first. He gripped Aithne's shoulder as he stepped out. /Go carefully,/ he growled.

Canderous and Aithne followed him out, gripping their weapons. The place looked like a battlefield. No less than four bodies littered the floor in the bay room. They looked like they'd been torn to pieces. Some were gnawed.

"Well," Aithne whispered. "This is cheerful. Come on."

At first the base seemed deserted. Water dripped here and there. The sound rang out like a musical instrument. Bodies lay everywhere, and out of the enormous windows, grinning firaxan sharks as long as the submersible with long teeth could be seen gliding silently through the waters.

It felt like years before they came to a computer. It was still working, as were the base cameras. Aithne flipped through the rooms in the base beyond them, searching for anything that might tell them what had happened. Canderous stood close so he could see.

Amazingly, the entire base wasn't deserted. Some Selkath were still slinking around. But Canderous could tell at a glance that something was off about them. They weren't the pompous, controlled idiots of Ahto City. The Selkath here reminded him of the rhakghouls in the Tarisian Undercity. They were tearing at one another. One of them had a trailing gibbet of meat dangling from its fish mouth, with just a bit of orange cloth attached. Just then, it looked up at the camera incidentally. Aithne shuddered. Canderous fingered his repeating blaster. Not a trace of intelligence or sanity remained in that beady black eye, just raw, animalistic cunning. And anger. Aithne hit a few keys, gassing all the rooms she could. Canderous watched as the insane Selkath fell down, asphyxiated.

"That's still not all of them," Aithne said. "The Selkath are insane. They're killing everything that moves. But…why?"

"Could be the Star Map," Canderous offered. "From what I've heard from Onasi and Bastila, your maps have this Dark Side energy."

Aithne shivered again. "We have to go on," she said after a long moment. "Still, this is creepier even than the one on Korriban. And it was in a _tomb_. _Why_ can't the Star Maps ever be in a garden full of daisies?" Her voice shook. Canderous raised an eyebrow at her. She glared.

"You were afraid on that Basilisk droid!" she snapped. "So I don't like it underwater. If what I remember is right, I didn't then, either. And those Selkath just make it worse. Insanity…it's worse than the Sith."

Zaalbar nodded in agreement. He put a paw to her shoulder, and Aithne stood up straight.

As much as the insane Selkath frightened Aithne, they weren't much of a challenge, Canderous reflected halfway through the base. They were just as likely to kill each other as any one of them. There were nearly as many Selkath corpses lying around as Republic and mercenary ones. In addition, though the Selkath definitely wanted to kill them, they were mostly unarmed, and weak to boot.

Revan snorted after about the sixth group of them. "No wonder the Selkath are so set on neutrality. You get one good squadron of soldiers in here and you could tear these people apart!"

Canderous looked at her sideways, and she blushed. "Doesn't mean I want to," she qualified hastily. "I'm just saying you _could._"

They were mostly through the base when they encountered another human. He seemed as loony as the Selkath, if harmless. The man had stashed himself in a locker. They wouldn't have found him, but he was whimpering. Aithne tapped on the door.

"Somebody out there?" asked a sharp, frantic voice. "Fishy fishy fishy! Ha! You can't get me in here, fishy. I'm safe behind my walls."

"Sir?" Aithne said. "We're not Selkath. I'm a Jedi. My name is Aithne Morrigan. I have friends with me. Come out and tell me what happened. We'll protect you."

But try as she might, Aithne couldn't get the lunatic to emerge. He just kept sing-songing about how they were sure to end up as "lunchie munchie" for the Selkath.

Eventually Canderous stopped Aithne. "Leave him," he said. "This one won't come out of his little hole. He deserves whatever happens to him, the coward."

Aithne looked at him, and Canderous shifted. "If you really must, we can tell Wann up there he's down here. But we have to find your Star Map."

Regretfully, Aithne nodded. Then, in the corner, she saw an environment suit stacked next to some sonic emitters. She grabbed them. Canderous frowned. Wherever it was, it was outside?

When they finally got to a pressure door, though, they had been unable to locate any other environment suits. Aithne eyed the one they had, and Canderous crossed his arms.

"No way, Morrigan. You are not going out there alone."

Zaalbar stepped up next to him, agreeing. /I cannot honorably allow you to face this danger alone,/ he said.

Aithne sighed. "There's no honor about it. No ifs, ands, or buts. I'm going. I don't think either of you even know what a Star Map looks like, and I'm the only one that has a rough idea where to look. I'm going. You're staying. End of story."

Zaalbar shifted. /Mission will have my head!/

"Onasi will have mine," Canderous agreed. But he looked at her, and nodded. "Be careful, then."

Aithne began stepping into the environment suit without further ado. She engaged the pressure lock, and Canderous was forced to step back. But he watched her step out into the deep. "Good luck, Revan," he said.

* * *

><p>AITHNE POV<p>

The many tons of water pressed in around Aithne, and she felt her skin go up in goose bumps in response to the sudden chill outside her environment suit. She was deep, very deep down under the surface of the almost endless Manaan ocean. She felt nervously for her sonic emitter and walked forward. Every step was a strain in the water. Up ahead, she saw a yellow suit like her own. A surge of relief raced through her, and she quickened her steps, following him through a doorway that looked out on the open ocean.

"Hey!" Aithne called out to the survivor. Her voice was tinny and strange in the suit. He turned to face her, and so he missed the open mouth of a nightmare racing towards him.

"Watch out!" Aithne cried. But it was too late. The firaxa carried the screaming man away. Aithne shuddered. It could be just like that for her, too. This ocean reminded her how small and powerless she was in the big scheme of things. Attack could come from any direction. She wished fervently that the lightsabers beneath her suit would activate in this murky underwater land. Aithne took a deep breath, and the bubbles rose up from her suit and reminded her that her oxygen tank was running down. She forced herself forward again.

There was a low row of buildings through the water, just across the walkway. Aithne felt out with the Force, and she sensed the pulsing Dark energy of the Star Map just beyond them. Of more immediate interest, however, were the auras of the two sharks bearing down upon her from either side of the door. Aithne pressed the sonic emitter frantically. She heard a faint rolling sound as the two long bodies rolled over in the water, their brains shattered by the blast.

Aithne began to move towards the second complex. Two more sharks tried to attack her on the way. One she slew barely a meter from her face. But ten harrowing minutes from the time she first stepped out into the ocean, Aithne reached the second set of buildings.

She threw the suit off as soon as she stepped through the pressure door, and took her lightsabers out, activating her shield.

It was just in time. She heard the throaty croaks of Selkath, and four of the frenzied creatures threw themselves at her. Aithne reached out with the Force and sent a pulsing wave through the room that knocked the things off their feet. She followed it up with a Stasis. She couldn't afford to play fair here, especially now that she was alone. She cut the Selkath down quickly and moved on to the next room.

The only thing of note was a large purple force field. But beyond it, Aithne saw people. Two people, around thirty or so, stood trembling in lab coats behind the force field.

"Hello," she called.

"No!" the man cried. "You'll let the Selkath and the firaxan sharks in! I won't let you!"

"Kill them," the woman urged. "Kill her now!"

The man pressed a button on the wall.

"Ten seconds until complete depressurization," a computerized voice related cheerily. Aithne felt her organs protest. She looked around wildly, and ran to a computer in the compound. As her body screamed, Aithne deactivated the depressurization and unmanned the force field, returning things to normal.

"No, no," whimpered the man, clutching at the woman.

Aithne walked over to them, breathing heavily, the knots of fear in her stomach slowly unwinding.

"Calm down," she gasped, bracing herself on her knees. "I'm Aithne Morrigan. I'm…a Jedi, and a friend."

Slowly, the panic left the man and woman's eyes. They straightened. "Really?" the woman asked.

The man sighed. "We're scared," he said. "I…I apologize for the misunderstanding."

"You apologize for trying to kill me?" Aithne laughed shakily. "That one's new. People try to kill me every day. Don't often get apologies, though. Don't worry, I forgive you." She straightened. "Well. Look at you. People. And you're alive, too. Fantastic. Can you tell me what happened here?"

The man shook his head in sorrow. "When the Selkath went crazy, I thought everyone else except me and Sami went mad."

Aithne sighed. "As far as I can tell, if they did, it was a madness born out of fear. Different from whatever's going on with the Selkath. There was one guy that seemed to think that he could survive outside the base- a firaxa ate him. And there's another one that won't come out of a locker. But everyone else…" she broke off. "I'm sorry."

The woman nodded. "I'd hoped there were more," she said quietly. "When the Selkath went mad, though, the firaxa went frenzied, too."

Aithne winced. "Yeah. I'd noticed."

"My team," the man said brokenly. Aithne raised her eyebrows. He'd been a leader of some sort, then. "My team was torn apart and eaten before my eyes. I locked us in here. We heard the Selkath outside at the doors every once in a while…and strange noises echoing through the base."

"What do you think happened?"

The man stuck out his hand. "I'm Kono Nolan, and this is Sami. We were scientists working here on the Hrakert Rift project."

Aithne shook his hand. "Alright, but what happened?"

"We don't know," Sami said. "At least, not for sure."

Kono continued. "We were working outside in the Rift near the vent. Then there was this rumbling and my head felt like it was splitting open."

"This…this monster rose up from the Rift," Sami recalled, her eyes wide.

"It was a firaxa shark, I think," Kono corrected. "Bigger than any I'd ever seen before. Bigger than our submersibles."

"It was like it was screaming inside my head," Sami reiterated.

"Then all the Selkath started screaming, too, and they turned on us."

Aithne nodded. "Like those I've been killing throughout? There aren't many. I think they've been killing one another, too."

Kono nodded in agreement. "I think the sound the monster was making in our heads drove them insane," he hypothesized.

Sami looked thoughtful. "Well, maybe it was protecting the ruins by the Rift."

"It could have been," Kono Nolan agreed. "It might have a lair in the Hrakert Rift near the kolto vent. Hmm…that may explain some things, too."

Aithne was glad the coherent survivors of the massacre had been scientists. "Like?" she prompted them.

"Like why it reacted so violently when our construction efforts got closer to the vent," Kono said absently, his eyes distant in thought. "And why it is so large. It must be feeding off the kolto. It would have to be ancient indeed for it to reach that size. But with kolto as a food source…"

Sami caught his train of thought, eyes brightening. "And all those other firaxan sharks! Those might be its offspring!"

"Which would be why they all swarmed when it called out to them," Kono speculated. "Children coming to protect their mother."

Aithne's concerns were more practical. "Where is it now?"

Kono and Sami shuddered in unison. "Probably still out there," Kono said.

"Waiting for us," Sami agreed.

Aithne grimaced. "I have to go out there. What can I do?"

Kono considered. "Well, blasters don't always work," he said.

Sami looked over in the corner, where a tub of something stood. "We were working on a compound to drive them away, but we never got it working right," she said regretfully.

Kono Nolan's eyes flashed, though. "Still, flawed as it is," he said excitedly. "It should be ideal for this situation."

Sami shook her head. "You don't know what it will do!" she told her companion.

"Why?" Aithne asked. "What is it?"

"Well," Sami related, "the compound was supposed to be a repellent, but it turned out to be violently toxic to the firaxa instead. When used, it ruptured the shark's outer skin in seconds, and prevented them from drawing oxygen from the water by clogging their intakes."

Aithne imagined the sight, and made a face. "That sounds…unpleasant."

Kono shook his head. "It's exactly what we need," he insisted. "Something to kill the monster that destroyed our station!"

Sami looked grave. "But we don't know how else the chemical reacts," she protested. "We only tried it in a controlled environment. In the open ocean, who knows what it could do…it could even affect the kolto!"

"It'll kill the shark," Kono retorted savagely. "That's what we designed it to do."

Aithne considered, then turned to the woman. "Sami, what else could I do?" she asked.

"The monster seems to have been driven out by the machinery we installed at the edge of the Rift," Sami answered. "We've seen it out there on the cameras bashing itself against the machines. I think if you could destroy the machinery we installed, the shark would calm down and retreat back into its lair inside the Rift."

Aithne toyed with the idea. Blowing up machinery didn't sound nearly as disgusting as rupturing a giant firaxan shark's skin, and it would serve the Republic right for working around Manaan's people like that, and trying to use her. "How?" she asked, keeping her tone noncommittal.

"The Hydrolium gas we installed is a gas at one to three million sangen," the scientist explained. "It's a liquid at about four million sangen, and a solid above that. When it's a liquid, it's very explosive. If you inject enough of the Hydrolium gas into the tank, the pressure will be so great that it will turn into liquid form and start a chain reaction inside the machine."

Kono couldn't take it anymore. He burst out angrily, "But we'll lose everything we've built here! Years of work. No, look," he said to Aithne, indicating the toxin. "There's the toxin, ready to go. Just vent it through the harvester. Then we can go back to mining kolto."

Aithne bit her lip. "I'll…I'll think about it," she said, spying another environment suit near the door that she guessed led to the harvester, the Hrakert Rift, and the Star Map. "When I get back to the Embassy, I'll make sure to tell Roland Wann you're down here. There's no room in my own sub. And don't worry. I've taken care of the Selkath."

"All of them?" Kono asked, looking at her in wonder. Aithne nodded briskly.

"All of them," she confirmed.

"Thank…thank you," Sami said.

"You know what you have to do," Kono said, as she stepped into the suit.

"I just hope you make the right choice," Sami finished.

Aithne stepped out into the sea again with some trepidation, and immediately pressed her sonic emitter in a panic. Two sharks rolled over dead. Breathing in a shaky breath, Aithne proceeded.

Luckily, the harvester was not far. She went up to the panel, and cued the computer. Two options came up. View pressure controls, and vent toxin. Aithne hesitated.

A good Republic citizen would just press that toxin button. A good Republic citizen would kill the monster she could sense circling the Star Map now. She could leave the base and the harvester untouched, and tell no one of what transpired down here except representative Wann. It was good strategy, even, to leave the harvester. Revan or Aithne, she'd always been strategically inclined.

But for some reason her finger hovered over the button. She'd had enough of politics and being jerked around. She didn't like mess, and frankly, she kind of wanted to get back at the Republic for using her the way they had, if only in a small way. They'd still get kolto. And if Sami was right, it would be better kolto. She'd rather have Sith and Republic get the same amount of good kolto than have the Republic get more corrupted kolto. Aithne sighed. _No use dissembling. Darth Revan or Aithne, I'm _not_ a good Republic citizen. _

Deftly, she maneuvered the Hydrolium gas in the harvesting machine to where there was four million sangen in the container pod. The screen flashed red, and up overhead, the great harvesting machine blew up with a spectacular release of bubbles and energy, though for all Aithne could tell the explosion was completely silent.

The great beast, a giant orange firaxa nearly as big as the harvester itself, swam up to look. Aithne sensed the Star Map down the walkway. Tentatively, she stepped towards it. The creature turned one eye stalk to look at her curiously, but then moved away, completely uninterested. The smaller sharks, its children according to the Republic scientists, suddenly lost the tension in their bodies and swam in all directions. Aithne smiled. She still didn't like it underwater, but the ocean seemed a little brighter, anyway.

The Star Map was a ways down the ancient highway at the edge of the Hrakert Rift. Aithne got there, and with some difficulty lifted the waterproof datapad she'd left out for just for this purpose. She had taken care to transfer all the Star Map coordinates to the more expensive pad just after she had the Manaan memory. She inserted it now, and the Star Map opened up.

This one was different. This time, the Star Map seemed to interact with her datapad a bit. And then, instead of displaying the usual mishmash of coordinates, it showed Aithne hyperspace routes. The Star Map swirled in blues and greens and white light, showing a planet, rather small, and just to the side of it: a space station. And then it was over. The Star Map closed, and Aithne removed her datapad, quivering in excitement. She looked at it. There were the clear-set of coordinates and instructions she had been searching for since Dantooine. They were to a world she couldn't recall visiting in all her years of fake memories. But she got a flash of the smell of salt and the grit of sand between bare toes from a memory somehow farther off, and she knew that if Aithne Morrigan hadn't been to this world, Revan had.

Her environment suit beeped. Aithne looked down at her readouts, and stifled a gasp. That wouldn't help her, with her oxygen meter at only fifteen percent! She had five, maybe seven minutes left. Aithne turned around as quickly as she could in her cumbersome aluminum can of an outfit. The main building was down on the right side of the path, but it looked miles and miles away through the murky water. Aithne quickened her pace, ignoring the burning in her muscles. The fire in her lungs when her oxygen went out would be much worse. It would be fatal, if she was out long enough.

The building kept looking farther away, though Aithne's muscles felt like iron in a forge. Her head began to pound as the meter reached three, two, one percent. Finally, meters from the door, the meter beeped. Aithne drew in a breath and her lungs didn't expand. Airlessness cut through her like a knife, and Aithne felt the blood slow in her veins. Still she continued on. Her face had to be blue, Aithne though._ Like the ocean. Ha._

She stumbled and realized she'd reached the building. Her eyelashes drooped. In one last supreme effort she pounded her fist on the door of the building. Purple spots danced in front of her vision, turning to black.

_Funny, that a little thing like oxygen deprivation should kill me. I'm Darth Revan, and I suffocated to death…that's funny. Ha. Ha…._

* * *

><p>CANDEROUS POV<p>

Canderous knelt beside Aithne, chafing her wrists and steadily cursing in Mandalorian. If Zaalbar hadn't insisted on staying beside the Hrakert Rift door! It was lucky they'd found another environment suit tucked up inside a ceiling cabinet. He'd heard her pounding on the door, and Zaalbar had seen her outside the window. He'd been able to get to her not three minutes afterwards. But that so easily might have been too late. He'd seen oxygen starvation before.

Zaalbar had gotten her out of that suit and carried her to the sub, but now they'd been going up more than fifteen minutes and she still hadn't come to. At least her face had stopped looking blue and she was breathing normally again. Her hands had warmed up a little, too. They'd been like liquid nitrogen when he'd found her. She'd live.

But by Mandalore himself, if Onasi, or even Vao ever found out just how close Morrigan had come to dying back there Canderous wouldn't bet much on his survival in that fallout. The Wookiee was already practically having hairballs, roaring on and on about his dishonor and his life debt and how he should have put Aithne in that locker with the lunatic before he let her go out into the ocean alone.

Canderous had finally had it. "Enough," he said. "If you think you and I together could've taken Revan once she'd set her mind on something, well- we couldn't have. Just be glad. I may've been in the suit, but you found it, and you were the one that insisted we watch." He cursed again, imagining the alternative.

Aithne's eyes fluttered, and Canderous released her wrist. "Welcome back, Morrigan," he said.

/Thank Bacca you are alright!/

Aithne winced, putting a hand to her head. Canderous couldn't say he felt sorry for her headache. He figured she just about deserved it after everything she'd put them through. She blinked, recognizing the sub interior. She looked at Canderous, and he gestured at Zaalbar.

"Where's the Star Map?" she asked hoarsely.

Canderous took it off the co-pilots seat in the sub and handed it to her. "Here. You were holding it so tightly that Zaalbar here had to pry it out of your fingers to get you out of that environment suit."

Aithne looked at the datapad thoughtfully. "I ought to send these coordinates to the Republic and the Jedi," she said. "Because if I don't manage to beat Malak this time? I am _not_ doing that again."

Canderous chuckled. Aithne sat up slowly, rubbing her temples. "How long was I out?"

/You were unconscious for about twenty minutes,/ Zaalbar put in.

Aithne grimaced. "Don't tell the others?"

Canderous fought looking too relieved. She was basically inviting him to pin this whole thing on her. He raised an eyebrow at her. "You don't want us to tell them how stupid you were? How you irresponsibly went out into open ocean alone, and then didn't make sure to reserve enough oxygen to complete your task properly?"

Zaalbar looked amused. /You would deserve the scolding you would receive and more,/ he said.

Aithne shook her finger. "Would." She looked from Zaalbar back to Canderous. "Aren't I going to get it?"

Canderous looked at Zaalbar for a long, considering moment. Both of them would be just as happy as Aithne not to have anyone know about this, really, but they let her sweat for a moment. Finally, he replied, "No."

Aithne heaved a sigh of relief. "Thanks." She looked down a moment. "For everything."

Canderous turned back to the dash to check on their progress back up to the Republic Embassy. "Don't mention it."

Aithne had almost completely recovered by the time they reached the Embassy again. Wann was pacing the corridor just outside the sub bay when Canderous and the others emerged. Aithne had to wave a few times to get his attention. When he finally noticed them, he jumped. Canderous sneered. Yes. A coward.

"You have returned. I feared that you, too, might have been lost. Did you find out what happened?"

Aithne had told them about her findings on the way up, so Canderous wasn't surprised when she explained. "I did. Your construction woke up a giant firaxan shark that lived in the Rift, feeding on the kolto. It drove all the Selkath insane. They…they killed nearly everyone."

Roland Wann shuddered. "That's…that's horrible," he said. "The entire operation wasted by a disaster we could never in a thousand years have foreseen. What happened to the facility itself? Are there any survivors?"

Canderous stepped forward a little, anticipating this next bit. "One question at a time," Aithne said. "Yes, Mr. Wann, there are survivors. Kono Nolan made it, and so did one of his associates, a woman named Sami. There was also this insane guy in a locker. They ought to be safe enough now."

Wann motioned an officer over. "Take the submersible," he ordered. "Retrieve Kono Nolan and Sami and try to coax the man in the locker out. They'll no doubt wish to leave after their ordeal." The officer saluted and left for the sub bay immediately.

He turned back to Aithne. "Padawan Morrigan, the facility? Was it damaged?"

Aithne shrugged. "Your buildings are a little bloody, but intact. But…the harvesting machine was destroyed. Sorry." Canderous could tell she wasn't. It had been a bad move, tactically speaking, if she really were on the Republic side. But Canderous knew she wasn't, and it really served the Republics right for trying to push Revan around.

The representative reeled. "No!" he cried. "That will set our work back years!" He sighed, face falling into deep lines. "It may even cost us the war."

Aithne's face hardened. "No. It won't. Because I found the Star Map. I know where Malak is. I have found the source of all his baffling supplies and ships. So, excuse me, but I have to be going. I have a galaxy to save."

Canderous tipped the thunderstruck representative a little wave as he and Zaalbar followed her through the Republic base. The door was shut. Aithne opened it.

"No, Padawan Morrigan! Wait!" Roland Wann called after her.

Zaalbar growled. Canderous rolled his eyes. And Aithne looked over her shoulder. "Too little, too late, Wann," she said sourly.

Four uniformed Selath stood there. /We have monitored an alarming number of detonations coming from the Hrakert Rift,/ they said. /And our spy cameras in the Republic Embassy have monitored you leaving in a submersible. You are under arrest./

Aithne held her hands up resignedly. /Yeah, yeah, I'll come quietly,/ she said. /This is getting to be too much of a routine here./


	38. Crash Landing at the Eye of the Storm

**Disclaimer: You can skip this. You know it's only going to say I don't have rights to any of the brilliance below. That the idea isn't mine, nor the characters. Why are you still reading this?**

* * *

><p>Chapter Thirty-Eight<p>

CARTH POV

The entire crew had been on the edge of their seats all day after Mission had relayed Aithne's message to them, despite Canderous' and Zaalbar's assurances. They were sitting in the living area now, staring at their chronos and com-links intermittently, completely unable to watch the bad holovid Teethree was showing.

Everyone jumped up at once when Mission's com-link buzzed. She snatched it up immediately. "Aithne? You're back?"

"Yes, Mish, I'm back," came Aithne's voice. "That's the good news." Carth's stomach dropped.

"What is the bad news?" Juhani asked for him.

The speaker crackled with Aithne's sigh. "The bad news, Juhani, is that I'm in jail again for the detonations I set off in the Hrakert Rift."

"Seriously?" Mission asked. "Now this is just getting ridiculous. Are Big Z and Canderous alright?"

"Yes, they're fine. They're with me. They're considerably better off than I am, actually." Carth's stomach knotted, and Mission opened her mouth, but Aithne continued, "No, Mish, I'm not seriously hurt and tell Jolee to stop going through his healing supplies."

Carth looked over at Jolee and almost laughed. Jolee's hand was half out of his medical bag. He looked like a cat caught with its paw in the bird-cage.

"When's the trial?" Carth asked.

"The trial's in half an hour," Aithne sighed. "If you want to come, fine."

"We'll be there," Jolee said.

"Aytchkay?" Aithne spoke out of the speaker. "You are not to come, you got that?"

"Resignation: As you wish, master."

* * *

><p>When the crew filed into the court room, the judges looked askance at them. Carth didn't blame them. He supposed Aithne and the <em>Ebon Hawk<em> crew had stirred up more trouble on Manaan than anyone had dared to in years. Aithne, Canderous, and Zaalbar were led in to the courtroom in energy cuffs. Aithne looked bored.

Head judge Shelkar read the charges, and as she did, she began to look worried. The other judges began to murmur amongst themselves. /These are serious charges, Aithne Morrigan,/ Shelkar finished at last. Carth began translating for Mission again. /Even more serious, if I may say so, than the ones you were brought before us with yesterday. The Hrakert Rift is our most sacred place. Anything that threatens it or the kolto it produces threatens our entire species./

Aithne's jaw tightened as the other judges took turns yelling at her. This was less of a trial than a demand for an explanation, Carth noticed. They didn't know what she had done down there. Depending on how she answered, she could get off completely or get herself, and all of them, and the entire Republic into very, very hot water. But they had to know what she and her thuggish companions had done to the Rift.

The corner of Mission's mouth lifted just a little as Carth translated this last bit. "You gotta admit," she whispered, "Big Z and Canderous together look pretty thuggish."

Carth wanted to smile as he looked over at the Wookiee and the Mandalorian, but the situation was too serious. "Shh," he whispered back.

Aithne drew in a breath finally. The judges quieted. /The explosions, your honors, were at the research station both our governments set up there,/ she said carefully.

The judge on Shelkar's right immediately demanded /What are you talking about?/ But Shelkar herself nodded.

/We know of this,/ she said. Carth frowned. He hadn't pegged Shelkar for a Republic supporter. But the other judges argued a bit over this, until they remembered Aithne was still there.

/But…but what caused the explosions?/ One of them asked finally.

/The machinery there had woken up an enormous firaxa,/ Aithne explained. /This firaxa was wreaking havoc upon the base's human and Selkath inhabitants. I destroyed the machinery./

The Selkath had another rapid conversation in their croaking, gurgling tongue. Carth didn't catch most of it. They seemed to be impressed by something, a legend of sorts.

Sharply, Shelkar demanded, /Did you kill this shark, Morrigan?/

Aithne shook her head. /I did not./

One of the judges burst out, /The Progenitor! It must have been!/

Shelkar raised a webbed hand. /Enough! Off-worlders are not to hear of such things!/

The same judge continued. /But she spared it! She destroyed the machinery to save it, perhaps?/

/Indeed,/ Shelkar said quietly. /This casts your actions in a new light, Morrigan./

"She's going to get off again!" Mission hissed, squeezing Carth's arm. And indeed, after a brief discussion, the judges did let Aithne off. After the guard had released the energy cuffs from the party, Aithne bowed ironically to Shelkar.

/I hate to leave you,/ she said. /I mean, I bring you all so much business. I'm afraid you'll be terribly bored without me. But I have to be going. There are Jedi princesses to save and Sith Lords to defeat. Away from Manaan of course. I wouldn't _dare_ to infringe upon your neutrality./ Then she actually winked. Carth wasn't sure how she dared. But Shelkar only raised a single brow bone. Carth thought she almost smiled.

/Indeed. Well. Farewell, Aithne Morrigan. Good fortune follow you in your endeavors, however galaxy shaking they might be, and all the better fortune if you carry them out, as you say, very, very _far_ from Manaan./

Aithne waved, and turned to leave with the crew. She pulled a datapad out of her pack then and handed it to Carth.

"Decipher that and plug in the coordinates," she ordered tersely. "That's the Star Forge system. We'll find Malak there. And the Star Forge. And Bastila."

She slowed her pace to walk beside Juhani. "Come with me," she said. "We need to get supplies. We're going to fill the _Hawk_ up as full as we can. I don't know how far this system is."

She halted. Carth stopped and turned to face her. Then the rest of the crew realized she'd stopped and turned, too. "There will be a group meeting tonight at nine," she said quietly. Then she nodded once, and walked off with Juhani.

Carth sighed. Her face had gone stiff again, and it was clear that however charming she could be in front of a Selkath court, however quickly she had accomplished their objectives, Aithne was still not alright. He really did have to talk to her. Preferably before the group meeting.

* * *

><p>He waited for several hours- until Aithne and Juhani had gotten back with the supplies and Juhani had left to meditate. Then he made his way to the cargo hold. He stepped through the doorway, and Aithne stiffened. "Go away, Carth," she said, without even looking up from her datapad. "The crew meeting isn't for half an hour."<p>

Carth kept walking. He stopped about two feet away. "I'm not going away until you talk to me," he said. "I told you we need to talk. You've been avoiding me."

"I can't handle you right now," Aithne said. But she put the datapad down on a nearby crate.

"Handle me?"

Aithne turned. Her shoulders were stiff. Her arms were crossed. Annoyance stood out in every line on her face. Carth might have gone away, if he hadn't seen something like fear in her eyes.

"Look," Aithne said. "I'm trying, here, for the others' sake. But I can barely handle myself right now. Honestly. Saving Bastila? Defeating Malak? Oh, and let's not forget I second-guess myself at every turn now lest I develop a sudden desire for a long black cloak and galactic domination." She laughed, and Carth winced.

He didn't doubt her. No matter what she had been feeling throughout their journey she had told him. He remembered. And now the harsh, bitter quality of the laughter that had used to be one of his favorite sounds nearly overwhelmed him. It was almost worse than her silence.

She stepped close to him. "You know, you always see what everyone else misses," she said quietly. "How the Jedi were holding out on me. How I wasn't to be trusted. Now, you're the only one on this tub that seems to realize exactly what I am." She stared at him, daring him. "You said once that you'd like nothing better than to put a blaster to Darth Revan's head. Well. Here's your chance."

"Stop it," Carth told her.

"I led the army that blew Telos sky high," Aithne said in a low voice. "I betrayed your precious Republic, and for all either of us knows I might do it again. You want to put a blaster bolt through Darth Revan? Do it, Republic!"

"Damn it, Aithne!" Carth cried, grabbing her hands. Aithne's eyes locked on his, and she shuddered. "I don't hate you!" he finished, more softly.

Aithne started shaking. Her lip trembled, and her knees buckled. Carth swung an arm around her and caught her to his chest. That horrible emotionless mask broke, along with that hideous silence and the imposed 'I'm fine' image she'd been maintaining for a week and a half. And she was all Aithne again. She sobbed, clutching at his flight jacket.

"Say it again," she cried.

"I don't hate you," Carth repeated, but Aithne shook her head against his shoulder.

"My name."

Carth rubbed her back and kissed her hair. "Shh," he said. "It's alright, Aithne."

She shuddered, receiving the name like a benediction. He held her for a while, and eventually she quieted. Then she stepped away, looking at the floor.

"I hate me," she whispered.

"I can't," Carth told her.

She laughed. "Why? I deserve it."

"I know," he said. "I tried to hate you." He shrugged. "I got my revenge when Saul died. But I still don't feel peace. All I can think of is the promise I made to protect you from what's to come. It's given me a reason to look past simple revenge."

She flinched, and her eyes bored into his face, the long eyelashes still wet around them.

He continued, carefully. "Despite whatever part of Revan is inside you, the…the darkness that must surely be there, it isn't who you are. I've thought about it." He smiled.

"You're the woman that always has my back in a fight," he began.

Aithne closed her eyes, drinking in his words. He went on. "You're the woman that crossed the galaxy to save my son the Sith. You…you're the woman that smiles that crazy smile just before a fight where the odds are way against us. You're the one that drives Canderous insane singing at the workbench."

Aithne opened her eyes and smiled a real, warm, happy smile. Carth put a hand on her shoulder. "You…you can be so much more than Revan," he told her. His voice was a little unsteady. "Whatever the Jedi did to you, they gave you that chance. You have this huge destiny waiting for you, and I just fear that if you're alone it could swallow you whole. I mean, is there room in there for me? Will you let me help you?"

Aithne swallowed. She removed Carth's hand from her shoulder gingerly, as if he were burning her. "You're right again, Carth," she said carefully, with a bitter smile. "Going into this now- my chances aren't good. I'm going into the heart of the Dark. You're a good man. You deserve better than what may just be a suicide run, and I don't want you hurt protecting me."

She looked down, but Carth didn't take his eyes off her face. "I think I would be hurt worse if I didn't try."

Aithne half turned to him again, pained. "Carth…"

"Whatever's happened up until this point," he continued stubbornly. "There's going to come a time very soon where you're going to have to make a choice, and there won't be any turning back. I want you to make the right choice. I want to give you a reason to."

Aithne drew in a breath. "What sort of reason?"

Carth swallowed. "You gave me a future," he said. His voice shook. "I want to give you a future, too…with me."

Aithne went as still as a statue. "Future," she repeated. "As in today, tomorrow…" she swallowed. "After Malak?"

Carth nodded slowly and unmistakably, keeping his eyes locked on Aithne's. "As long as you'll put up with me," he confirmed. "I think I could love you, if you give me the chance."

Aithne gazed at him. Finally, she stepped up, put a hand on either side of his face, brought it down to hers and kissed him, softly and sweetly. She retreated just a few centimeters. "Are you sure?" she asked, her hands still warm on his face. "You should know, Carth, that there's no 'could' about this for me. I've tried to stop a hundred times, but I love you, and I have for a long time. You can stay and welcome, as long as you will, but just as sure as there's a point-of-no-return coming for me, there's one coming for you. If you come much further into this, you'll be stuck with me forever."

It was a warning. But Carth turned his head to the side and kissed Aithne's palm. "Understood."

"Carth?" her voice shook. She was still expecting him to back away, still giving him that chance.

Carth took her hands and looked her in the eye. "Face the future together with me?"

She nodded, looking slightly dazed.

"Aithne?" came the very much unwanted voice of Mission Vao. "Have you logged the supplies yet? It's time for the meeting."

Aithne tensed all over, but Carth was not about to let her leap away. As Mission rounded the corner, Carth retained her hands. Aithne blushed all over, and Mission raised a painted eyebrow. "I think I'll go call the others to the conference room," she said simply. She turned away, but Carth saw her smile.

Aithne picked her datapad up awkwardly. The mood had been effectively shattered. "Um…and three packages of dried fruit…we'd better go."

Carth laughed at her. Her face was still red. "C'mon, then, beautiful."

* * *

><p>AITHNE POV<p>

Aithne and Carth were the last ones to the conference room. When they entered together the entire crew looked up. Jolee looked a little surprised. Zaalbar seemed to smile.

Canderous nodded once at Carth, and Carth smiled a bit. Juhani looked down at the table, though, and Aithne sighed. Lately the Cathar had been throwing herself more and more into the Jedi Code, meditating for hours together. Aithne hoped that it was helping her, but she guessed that it would be some time still before they could really talk as they had towards the beginning of the voyage, and even then it would be different. That is, if Juhani came at all.

Aithne placed both of her hands on the table. "The Star Map is finally complete," she announced to the group. "Carth has plugged the coordinates I retrieved from the Hrakert Rift into the Ebon Hawk's navigational systems. There will be no further stops between here and Malak." She paused. "There will undoubtedly be legions of Sith facing me. I don't even know if I'll come back. This is a do-or-die mission. Those of you who were here for Dantooine remember that I asked you then if you wanted to search for the Star Maps with me. Now I'm asking you again. You know the risks. You know what we're facing, and I'll tell you right now that I have no plan whatsoever. Considering this, do you want to come with me all the way?"

Aithne was quiet for a moment, letting her words sink in. She wasn't going to beg anyone to come along. From what she could tell, the chances of survival were pretty remote.

Finally she turned to Zaalbar. In the formal Shyriiwook style, she addressed him first. /Zaalbar. You have fought nobly and well. You have defended me against many foes, and you saved my life down in the deeps. I shall count your life debt resolved should you wish to return to Kashyyyk now./

Zaalbar nodded gravely. /You are good,/ he said. /But you are my life-debt, and my friend. In this last hour I shall not desert you. When I have helped you vanquish Malak, I may return home. But not before./

Aithne smiled at his confident optimism. /I thank you,/ she said, bowing.

She turned to Mission, then. "Mish," she said, "I'm going to be honest and say you're probably the last person I want going with me to the Star Forge. As amazing as you are, as much of a help as you've been, you have so much life ahead of you. I don't want you killed. But I don't want to break my promise and leave you on your own, either."

Mission was quiet for a moment. "It's not up to you," she said finally. "Sure, flying into the great unknown, lots of Sith, no plan. Seems impossible. But I never thought I'd get off Taris or do the things I've done since, either." She took in a breath. "If you think you're getting rid of me, Aithne, you got another think coming. You, Big Z, Carth," she smiled at the crew, "All of you guys, you're family. And family has to stick together. Even and especially against Malak. I'm coming!"

Carth smiled approvingly at Mission, and even Canderous granted her a respectful glance. Aithne bit her lip, though. If Mission got hurt, she'd never forgive herself. Mission stared at her, though, resolute, and Aithne nodded at last. She turned to Juhani. She'd been fairly certain Zaalbar and Mission would come, as much as she didn't like it. She wasn't sure about Juhani. "Juhani?"

The younger Jedi traced patterns on the conference table. "I have been assigned to see this mission through to the end," she said. "Until the Jedi Council assigns me elsewhere, I am coming. Also, there is Bastila yet to save."

Aithne went still. She nodded respectfully. "Thank you, Juhani," she said. "I am glad of your assistance."

Juhani shrugged. "I must confess I do not see the purpose of this line of questioning," she said quietly. Aithne was a bit taken aback by the criticism the comment implied, however slight and well-meant, but not displeased by it.

Canderous made a noise of assent. "Me neither. You're asking if I want to pass up an opportunity for greater glory than any I've faced since the Wars?"

Aithne rolled her eyes at him. "Okay, so it was a stupid question as far as you were concerned," she admitted.

Canderous gave her a contemptuous glance. "You think, Morrigan?"

"Aytchkay will want to come, and Teethree," Aithne thought aloud.

Teethree beeped in cheerful agreement.

"Statement: It should be a bloodbath of most pleasing proportions, master. I look forward to it."

"Yeah, yeah," Aithne muttered. She turned to Jolee. "What do you say, Jolee? Fool suicide quest to save the galaxy. You in?"

Jolee chuckled. "I don't really want to return to my camp in the Shadowlands," he said. "What else am I good for? Besides, I must admit to an idle curiosity as to how your destiny plays out."

Aithne smiled at him. He wasn't fooling her with his mask of nonchalance. She knew he cared, and she appreciated it, too. She swallowed. "I thought all of you would probably go," she said quietly. "I had to give you a chance, though. I- I love you all. I don't want you to die."

"Yeah, well, we don't want you to die, either," Mission shot back. "Idiot. Like we'd bail on you and let you do this alone."

Aytchkay swiveled his head. "Query: What about the meatbag beside the master? Is he not to have the option of 'bailing', as the small blue meatbag puts it?"

Carth walked up beside her and took her hand. "She gave it to me, before the meeting."

Aithne was glad of him, but desperately afraid for him, too. "He was even more idiotic than the rest of you," she muttered, not looking at him. But she squeezed his hand anyway.

Carth was beaming. Mission made a face. "Oh, please don't tell me you're going to be disgusting now. I have to live here, you know."

Aithne frowned. Mission had a point, however annoying she was about making it. She smiled at Carth apologetically and reclaimed her hand. He shrugged. It was true that there were nine of them on this relatively small freighter. They had to keep that in mind.

Aithne drew herself up then. "Right. Captain Onasi," she said loudly, "When will the ship be prepared to take off for the Star Forge?"

Carth looked at his chrono. "Commander, it's nearly ten o' clock at night!" he said in mock outrage. "We are prepared to leave immediately, but I better be getting paid overtime."

The tension was officially broken. Aithne, Canderous, and Juhani burst out laughing, and Carth smiled smugly. "As if!" Aithne managed between hoots of laughter. "Get on it, space-brain."

Mission groaned as Carth left. "Aithne, we really are going to have to work on your insults," she said severely. "Honestly, if you insult Malak like that, I'll just want to cry of embarrassment."

* * *

><p>Aithne was sitting alone in the living area. They were well within hyperspace en route to a system unknown. Everyone slept. Even Carth had put the <em>Hawk<em> on autopilot to turn in.

Aithne couldn't sleep. There was too much going through her head. They were going to the very heart of Malak's war- the war she had started, could she only remember- without a clue what they would find there and only the vague imperative to put a stop to it. One or all of her friends could very well fall in the effort, friends so close to her that she thought Mission's label 'family' wasn't too far off the mark. No matter what Carth said, every drop of blood spilt in this war had been her fault, and there wouldn't be a convenient Jedi Council around to expunge her of the guilt and memory of anyone that died in the upcoming battle. Aithne was never going near the Jedi again, after this.

She thought there might have already been a casualty in this mission. After the crew had separated and begun to go to bed, Aithne had sat in the living area and opened her mind. She had let down the wall she had erected between her consciousness and Bastila. She wanted to tell Bastila that they'd found the Star Forge, that they were on their way. But when she'd looked to go through her own mental wall, she'd smashed up against a wall of Bastila's own.

Aithne probed it now, but the wall didn't relax, even for a moment. The barrier had a cold, steely quality to it. She could sense Bastila alive behind it, but there were only two reasons that Bastila would put up a wall, and only one she thought very likely. Bastila might have built the wall because she was in so much pain that she didn't want even Aithne to feel it. She might have built it to spare her. But aside from one time when Aithne had been able to grit her teeth and tell Bastila they were coming about a week and a half ago, Aithne had kept well out of Bastila's mind, and Bastila had to know it.

No. It was much, much more likely that Bastila had succumbed to the Dark Side at last, and was now keeping Aithne out so she couldn't gain an advantage. Aithne closed her eyes. Just thinking it was hot iron in her spirit. Bastila's high ideals twisted…if only Aithne had been stronger back on the _Leviathan_. Smarter. If she'd only been just a little quicker on Manaan.

As Aithne leaned back in her seat, a single image popped into her head.

_A black ship stood out against a clear blue sky. A red lightsaber was lifted high for the strike…_

The image didn't have the feel of her Revan-memories, and Aithne didn't need one of the other Jedi on board to tell her that she was having a glimmer of foresight. A knotty lump of ice seemed to settle in her stomach. A choice, Carth had said. Oh, that man had more than a little bit of the Force in him.

She heard someone sit beside her. She turned.

"I thought everyone was asleep," she said.

"Well I was," Jolee Bindo said. "But I felt your disquiet, and I had to come out and see."

Aithne looked the old Jedi over. His robes were rumpled, and his eyes were still unfocused.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," she said. She stared down at her hands again. "I can't feel Bastila anymore," she confessed.

Jolee sighed. "It may not mean what you think," he offered.

"But it probably does," Aithne said.

"It probably does."

The silence stretched between them. It occurred to Aithne that Jolee probably understood exactly what was going on in her head right now. She licked her lips. "Tell me about the war you fought against Exar Kun," she said.

Jolee stared at the wall for a long time. "I suppose you're going to nag me until I cough it up, aren't you?" he said finally. "Nothing is private anymore, it looks like."

Aithne was quiet, waiting. Jolee drew in a breath, still not looking at Aithne. "My wife's name was Nayama," he told her. "She was the Ukatis officer that shot me out of the sky, if you remember."

Aithne didn't see what Jolee's wife had to do with anything, but she was intrigued nonetheless. "I remember. Go on."

Jolee smiled oddly. "I knew she was strong in the Force the moment I met her," he related. "That's why she was able to shoot me down. Nayama was a marvel of a woman. Fiery, determined, smart. She dragged me to the capital and foiled three of my attempts to escape prison. Oh, and _that body_…"

Aithne cleared her throat. "Jolee. I'm still here."

Jolee looked at her, and his lips tightened. "Um, well. I eventually won her over. That was after I kidnapped her upon being broken out of the Ukatis prison, mind you. But, uh, that's another story entirely. At any rate, I wanted to train her in the Jedi ways. The Council refused my request, naturally. I was still a Padawan at the time. I was an experienced Padawan, surely, but not yet ready to be a knight, and surely not ready to train an apprentice of my own. Especially not one so old as my wife."

Aithne was beginning to see where this story was going. "You disobeyed, then. Like me."

Jolee nodded. "I did. I wasn't the first and I won't be the last. The problem with self-righteous folk," he observed, "is that they think they're more right than everyone else. I believed in her, and I trained her in secret. I ignored her willful nature. I loved her too much to see any fault in her. And she loved me too, I know she did."

Aithne knew this story wasn't headed anywhere happy. "What happened?" she asked.

"Exar Kun is what happened," Jolee spat bitterly. "Nayama was inspired by his promises of a new Golden Age. She wanted to join him. She came to me, begging me to throw off the decrepit trappings of the Jedi. She wanted me to join her."

Aithne put a tentative hand on the old man's shoulder. "Oh, Jolee. She fell?"

Jolee smiled sourly. "I hadn't thought so. Not right then. I was too proud to believe it of her. I had trained her myself. I loved her. I pleaded with her to reconsider, to think of all that she would be throwing away…to think of what she would become. She would have none of it. In frustration, she attacked me. She drew her lightsaber and attempted to strike me down. It was a scene being repeated everywhere throughout the galaxy. Pupil against master. In my case, it was a long and terrible battle, but I defeated her."

His face had set into hardened lines of misery Aithne had seen before on his face. But she had never yet discovered to what they pertained. "You killed her?" she guessed.

Jolee shook his head. "No. I had her at my mercy. Disarmed. Defenseless. But she looked up at me…and she knew I couldn't do it."

Aithne had been feeling a horrific sense of respect. Now she felt a kinship for the man, and a sadness that she knew was the merest echo of the regret and agony Jolee Bindo had lived with for years. "I couldn't have, either," she said softly.

"I should have," Jolee said in firm self-loathing. "Sometimes I convince myself otherwise, but it's no use. She had fallen to the Dark Side when she drew her saber on me. I let her go. To my shame, she went on to kill many Jedi during the war until she, herself was slain in the final battle. I grieved for her death, inevitable as it was, even as the Jedi Council put me on trial for my actions once the war was over."

"And?" Aithne asked.

Jolee laughed mirthlessly. "They found me innocent. I...I deserved every punishment and more for my actions, but they let me go. 'Mitigating circumstances' they said. I deserved compassion, they said. They said I had learned wisdom the hard way. For all I had done during the war, they wished to grant me full Jedi status at last. That…" he finished. "That was when the Jedi left me. That was when they failed me."

Aithne sat in silence. "They forgave you…" she said at last. "But…"

Jolee nodded. "I never forgave myself."

Aithne tilted her head. "And you still believe in love?" she asked.

Jolee looked at her. "I…yes. Does that surprise you?"

Aithne thought for a moment. "Not really," she said.

Jolee shook his head. "Ah, it was all long ago. Lost in the winds. Nobody cares about the thoughts of an old man anymore."

Aithne put her hand on his shoulder. "That's not true, Jolee. I care. And, if it helps, your own story has been far more instructive than any of the other stories you've told me. It- it may turn out to have very real application for me, and soon." She looked down. "I'm glad you told me."

Jolee looked at her, an odd, questioning look in his eyes. "You are, are you? Well, maybe you'll be able to sleep. Get out of here, anyway. I wish to be alone."

Aithne nodded. "I understand. Jolee, I'm sorry."

And she left. And though she felt sad, as Aithne made her way to the dormitory, she noticed that the cold knot in her gut had shrunk, just a bit.

* * *

><p>The journey to the Star Forge ended up only taking ten days. Carth called her up to the cockpit at about noon on the tenth day when they came out of hyperspace.<p>

Aithne looked out of the front window and gasped.

"I know," Carth agreed. "I've never seen anything like it."

Hundreds, maybe thousands of ships stretched out before them. Squadron upon squadron. The tiniest precision fighters to the most magnificent of starships. They buzzed black against the stars like hive insects.

The Station itself, the Star Forge they had been seeking for so long, was a giant needle of a thing orbiting a planet down below. As Aithne and Carth watched, a doorway opened. Ten new Sith ships flew out like grotesque eggs. Aithne bit her lip, wondering _what_ the Jedi could have been thinking to send ten, now nine, galactic misfits up against _that_.

Carth stared a while. Then he said in a tight voice, "I'm transmitting these coordinates to Admiral Dadonna. Maybe a quick strike by the Republic can cripple the Sith fleet."

_It'd take everything the poor Republic has left, _Aithne thought privately, but all she said aloud was "Good thinking. In any case, we can't take on all that alone."

Carth nodded grimly, fiddling with the console for a moment. "Message is away. Now we can just wait for the Republic to show up. We should be safe here…" he started, but then the instruments started beeping.

"Fighters," Aithne growled. "You jinxed it." Pressing the button for the intercom she yelled, "Canderous! Get your Mandalorian butt up to your turret! We can't let the fighters report our position!"

She ran to her own turret, and as she situated herself behind her guns she heard Canderous scramble up behind her. She fired quickly and accurately, focusing with the Force to better feel where the fighters lurked. She had neither time nor troops to show mercy. She took out four of the fighters in thirty seconds.

"Aithne, you've been holding out on us," Canderous praised her.

Aithne scowled. "Those other times we were trying to escape," she snarled at him. "Now we're trying to survive."

Canderous polished off the last fighter. He and Aithne climbed down from the turrets, and the ship shook. "More ships?" Aithne demanded of Carth.

"Negative," he replied. "We've got problems, though. We've flown into some kind of disruptor field." He sounded very annoyed, and the most like a pilot that she'd ever heard him. "All my instruments are jammed! We've got massive overloads in all systems!" He made a small noise of disgust. "I'm picking up a single planet in this system. I'll try to put us down there. Hold on. This may be a rough landing."

It was a testament to Carth's skills as a pilot that no one threw up, and only Big Z fell over when they crashed on a white beach beside a clear blue sea. With all of the instruments jammed and all systems overloaded, Aithne was actually impressed. But the crew, who, besides Canderous, hadn't heard of the problems, was not.

They emerged into the living area after the crash looking shaken and generally irate.

"Whew," Mission said when Carth came out. "Talk about your rough landings, Carth! What's the matter? You're flying like you've been on an all night Tarisian ale drinking binge!"

"We flew into a disruptor field trying to get away from those fighters," Aithne said, unruffled. Mission, to her credit, looked slightly abashed.

"That disruptor field fried our stabilizers," Carth said, still in angry pilot mode. "We're lucky we made it down in one piece! But if we can't find the salvage to make repairs I won't even be able to get the _Ebon Hawk_ airborne again!"

Juhani spoke up. "During our rather rapid descent I noticed the hulls of many crashed ships scattered across the landscape. Perhaps the parts you need can be found among their wreckage."

Canderous nodded. "Juhani's right. This planet's a technological graveyard. I saw dozens of downed ships out there. That disruptor field must have wiped them all out. But where could it be coming from?"

Carth made a noise of frustration, running his hands through his hair. "Even if we get the stabilizers fixed, we'll have to find and disable the source of that disruptor field before we can take off. Otherwise we'll just crash again."

Aithne frowned. "So will the entire Republic Fleet."

Carth looked at her in horror. "You're right," he said. "The Sith Fleet must have some type of protection against the disruptor field. We have to disable it or the Republic will be slaughtered!"

T3-M4 suddenly rolled into action. He beeped what seemed to be a command, and plugged into the _Ebon Hawk_. He whirred for a moment, then beeped at Mission.

Mission went to the living area console, and odd schematics began to appear. "Teethree's picking up massive power fluctuations on the ship's sensors," she reported. "They seem to be coming from some type of large stone structure to the East…it looks like some kind of ancient temple."

"Where do you think Bastila is?" Aithne asked the droid hopefully. Teethree beeped a sad negative. He hadn't picked up anything.

Carth walked up behind Aithne, and put a hand on her shoulder. "We haven't forgotten about her, Aithne," he assured her. "But we can't do her much good stuck down here. We have to help ourselves before we can help her."

Juhani frowned. "I only hope we are not too late," she said. "Bastila has been Malak's prisoner for a long time. If he can turn her to the Dark Side she will join him and the Sith will be invincible."

Aithne sighed. "Thank you, Juhani, for that sparklingly optimistic assessment of the odds. I really hope you're wrong. But…" she hesitated, then went ahead. "She's been silent in my head the entire voyage here."

"I fear Bastila has found the lure of the Dark Side difficult to resist," Jolee said. "She is strong in the Force, but she is also impulsive, willful, and proud. Like you, I might add." His eyes contained a dark worry.

Aithne shifted. "I've been there," she murmured. "I'm not going back." She looked up at Jolee. "I may be impulsive, willful, and proud, but I'm also for you. Everything I've done since I can remember has been to the good of the Republic."

Canderous laughed. "Except for blowing up their kolto harvester," he pointed out.

Carth grimaced. He hadn't been so amused when the details as to exactly what machine Aithne had blown up on Manaan had come out. Aithne waved it off, though. "With _one_ minor exception." She looked from Jolee to Carth to Juhani steadily.

Juhani blinked.

Carth nodded in acknowledgment. "You know I believe you can do the right thing," he said.

Jolee smiled. "I'm glad to hear you both sound so sure." He focused on Aithne. "Now that you know your true identity, I was afraid you might slip back over to the Dark Side. If Bastila feels as you do, there may yet be hope for her."

Aithne bit her lip. "There is," she said, not quite believing it, especially if she was Jolee's assurance. "There has to be."

Carth squeezed her shoulder. "We won't be able to rescue her until we disable the disruptor field," he said. "She'll be with Malak, on the Star Forge, Dark Side or Light. The sooner we investigate that temple the better. We can probably find the wreckage of a downed ship along the way. If we're lucky we can salvage some stabilizers from it to get off this planet."

"I hope everything works out as smooth as you make it sound, Carth," Mission said skeptically.

"So do I, Mission," agreed Carth in a low voice. "So do I."

Aithne stood up straight then, taking charge. "Right then. Presumably the Republic's on their way, and we've got no time to waste. We'll split up into teams of three to scout the land out. Jedi, soldier, and techie. Our objective is double. We're looking for parts, and we're trying to figure out what's up with that temple."

She looked the crew over. Finally, she said, "Jolee, you'll go with Teethree and Aytchkay. Got it? HK-47, you are to obey Jolee Bindo just as you would obey me."

"Appeasement: Of course, master. Anything you say, master."

Aithne glared at him. "No appeasement. I want agreement."

"Resignation: Fine," he said. For Aytchkay, it was downright sulky.

Aithne hesitated. She wanted to take Carth with her, of course, but she knew that putting Canderous in a group with Juhani without her was a very stupid idea, tantamount to using dynamite as candles in a birthday cake.

"Carth, I want you to go with Juhani and Zaalbar." The Wookiee, Aithne had discovered on her journey, was nearly as good with machines and mines as his Twi'lek best friend, probably as a result of years spent with her on Taris. And if he didn't know what parts they needed to find, Carth would.

Carth frowned at her. Aithne's gaze darted from Canderous to Juhani. Carth nodded once. The Cathar and the Mandalorian rarely interacted at all, and when they did, it was always tempestuous at best, probably because the latter's people had nearly wiped out the former's.

"Mish, Canderous? You're with me."

"Keep your com-links on," Carth said as the three groups geared up and made for the door. "And watch for Sith. The whole fleet's above our heads somewhere. It wouldn't surprise me to find the animals down here."

The crew of the _Ebon Hawk _stepped out into the bright sunlight on some unknown world. The landscape was completely clear of any type of being, but Aithne felt that sentients dwelt here. The blue sky and the sun on the white sand was almost blinding. On impulse, Aithne took off a boot and placed her bare foot down on the beach. She flexed her toes, and yes, she remembered this place. Her head suddenly throbbed and once again she saw the black ship against a blue sky, _this_ blue sky, with the red lightsaber poised to strike against it.

"I've been here before," she said.

"You remember?" Mission asked sharply.

"Not exactly. It's more like a feeling. I remember the sand, and the sky, and the sea. But I don't know what I did or why I came." Aithne answered. "I don't know now, either. But something important is going to happen here. Soon."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: We're entering the final curve of the story. I must warn you that as this comes to a close, it goes AU. I suppose it might be considered AU already, what with the fem-Revan (though if Revan wasn't female, he totally **_**should have been**_**), but I'm talking more than that. We will be leaving the established Old Republic storyline because it doesn't make sense to me and I don't like it. So there. Fair warning. If you want to give up on me, I'm giving you your chance, just like Aithne gave the crew of the **_**Ebon Hawk**_** their chance to bail in this chapter. But unlike she did, I **_**will**_** beg you to stay. Please keep reading. And reviewing. Never forget reviewing!**

**May the Force Be With You,**

**LMSharp**


	39. Betrayal 101

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Please read on anyway.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Thirty-Nine<p>

Some buried instinct led Aithne north up the beach. Her feet remembered the sand. Her nose remembered the smell of the surf on this world, but her actions continued to elude her. Aithne growled in frustration.

"Um…Aithne? You all right?" Mission asked.

Aithne waved her off. "I can't remember," she cried. "I mean, I've been here. I know that much. I've been this way. But I _don't know what I did_!" She started walking a little bit faster, and the others lengthened their stride to match her pace.

Just then, five aliens not unlike the holographic projection from the console on Kashyyyk ran out from behind a crop of rocks. They were tall, with two long legs, and distinctly lizard-like in appearance. They were dressed in primitive tribal clothing and carried vibroblades. Their skin was grayish and pebbly, and two eyestalks protruded from either side of their elongated heads.

The instant the aliens caught sight of Aithne and her companions, their leader cried out something in a language Aithne could swear she recognized. But she was distracted from identifying the strange speech when the aliens rushed at her, brandishing their weapons. Aithne ignited her lightsabers and hit the attackers with a wave of the Force, knocking them off of their spindly legs.

Their technique was good, she observed in the few seconds the fight lasted. Unfortunately, they were weak and poorly armed. Aithne tried checking her blows when she'd cut three of them down, tried to signal Canderous and Mission to capture the weird aliens, but Mission shot the fourth, and the fifth all but leaped onto Aithne's lightsaber. Aithne stood there a second, looking down at the bodies. She swallowed. "Well. That was not the reception I'd hoped for. Come on." She started north again, and Mission cleared her throat.

"We sure we want to go that way?" she asked. "That's the direction the weird aliens who tried to kill us came from."

Canderous rolled his eyes. "Obviously. That's why we're going that way," he muttered.

"You're right," Aithne called back to him over her shoulder, forging on, "But not for the reason you think, Canderous. I'm not interested in a bloodbath here, and unfortunately we don't have time to conquer this world-" Mission looked worried, and Aithne sighed. "Kidding, Mission. No. We're going this way 'cause I think I understood what one of them yelled at me. We might find some that want to talk. Then we can ask questions."

"Alright," Mission said, but she sounded doubtful. It was just as well Mish was more used to avoiding than seeking out trouble, Aithne thought. It'd serve her well if she could avoid all the battles to come. She resolved to speak to Mission about it later.

Another party attacked them without speaking a little further north. Again, the aliens didn't pause their attack to give Aithne and her companions long enough off of the defensive to capture them. But the third party they met _did_ stop.

They spoke in gravelly voices vaguely reminiscent of the first language the droid had spoken way back on Dantooine. This time, however, Aithne understood.

They held up their hands. /Stay your weapons, interloper,/ one said. /We are not here for battle or blood. We bring you an invitation from the One, great Champion of the Rakata./

_Rakata, _Aithne thought with some satisfaction as the half-remembered word fell into place as referring to these people. She tried to find the knowledge in her brain to reply to the Rakata ambassador, but came up empty. She held up her hands. "I don't understand," she said, slowly and clearly. "Who's the One? What are you talking about?"

Canderous looked at her. "Hold on a second. You understood these goggle-eyed freaks? You must have come to this planet and learned this language back before the Jedi messed up your mind. Back when you were Revan."

Aithne rolled her eyes. "I _told_ you I had been," she reminded the Mandalorian acidly. "I obviously didn't learn the language well, though. I just understand. I don't think I can speak."

The leader of the Rakata party stepped forward. /You have used strong magics and weapons to slaughter our raiding parties, interloper,/ it informed her. /You have bathed in the blood of fierce Rakatan warriors. Your power and skill in battle has impressed the One. He wishes an audience with you: a great honor. Come with us now and we will take you to him./

Aithne hesitated. The fact that these people seemed to be impressed that she had "bathed in the blood of fierce Rakatan warriors" didn't bode well for her. Still, she answered cautiously. "Alright. I'm honored. But you still haven't told me who the One is."

With the reply, the Rakata confirmed he understood her. /The One is the leader of our tribe, the great Champion of the Rakata. He has feasted on the flesh of many foes. Come with us and we will take you to him now./

Aithne smiled politely, though she was inwardly quite worried. "People of one idea, aren't you," she said. "Very well, I'll go." She looked over her shoulder as she started to move forward with the Rakatans and added to Mission and Canderous in Twi'leki, /Watch yourselves. We're apparently being taken to the abode of a chieftain of a tribe of cannibals./ She kept her tone casual so the Rakatans wouldn't suspect anything was amiss.

Mission swallowed, and her lekku twitched. She glanced apprehensively at a brawny Rakatan marching beside her, and tensed as he stared back with flat black eyes. But her voice was calm as she replied, in Twi'leki like Aithne, /I don't like this./

/Me neither,/ Aithne said, /but at least they'll know what's up. Besides, unless there's several dozen, we can take 'em./

Canderous grunted. /Damn right,/ he said in Mandalorian. Aithne grinned, pushing her nervousness aside.

The Rakatan escort led Aithne, Canderous, and Mission north along the beach, through a rocky pass, and finally to a walled enclave, similar to that of the Sand People on Tatooine. Gray skinned Rakatans grinned at the small party with broken, yellowish teeth. For all that, Aithne noticed that the tribe was rather small. This reassured her somewhat, and she continued on. But she also noticed that they had pets.

/Aithne,/ Mission said at the first sight of the enormous, rough hided creatures following behind Rakatan warriors. /These…whatever they are might not be much trouble, but the rancor beasts are a different story, you know?/

Aithne nodded, keeping her face carefully blank as they followed the escort through the Rakatan enclave. /Yeah, Mission. I know,/ she said, stealing a hand over to clasp the teenager's shoulder reassuringly.

Finally the escort led them into a wide, arena-like area, where a hooded Rakatan stood waiting. Aithne noticed two things about him. First, his skin, rather than the grim gray of most of his people, was a more comforting shade of orange. Next, the Force clung to him alone among all the Rakatans she had seen. It was wild, untamed, and just strong enough for her to rate him as Sensitive. He was not a Force-wielder by any means. But the Force was with him nonetheless.

He grinned in satisfaction when he saw her. /Revan,/ he greeted her, confirming her fears. /Somehow I knew we would meet again. Even when you vanished, I knew you would not forget the vow you swore to me. And when my scouts told me of great warriors from the sky slaughtering our raiding parties with mysterious powers and magics, I knew you had returned at last./

Aithne tensed. She turned to Canderous and Mission. In an undertone she said, /He knew me as Revan. Apparently I made some vow. I either broke it or got mind-wiped before I could keep it./ She licked her lips and turned back to the One. "I am truly sorry," she said in Basic. "But…um…I'm not Revan anymore. You may call me Aithne Morrigan."

The One, for this was obviously he, frowned. He waved for the escort to disperse, and continued. /Your words are confusing,/ he said. /I recognize you: you are the one called Revan. You are the one who came before, you and Malak, the one who served you. You promised to slay our enemy. In exchange for our aid you swore to destroy the Elders and bring us their secrets. Are you saying this means nothing to you now?/

Aithne swallowed. How did she explain what had happened to her to this primitive chieftain? Did she even want to? She wasn't particularly keen on slaying _anyone_. "My mind has been destroyed and rebuilt newly since we last met," she said at last. "All of my memories have been lost, including my vow and your people."

The One appeared to consider. Finally, he nodded. /I sense there is something different about you, Revan,/ he said. /Something that has changed. I think I believe you. You are not the same as you were before. Yet the power of magic- what you called the Force- is within you still. You can still destroy the Elders and fulfill your vow!/

Aithne thought, then said, "What was this vow, exactly?"

The One tapped a clawed leg. /You vowed to kill the Elders,/ he explained, apparently with some impatience. /And to bring us the secret knowledge they protect. In exchange, we vowed to use this knowledge to help you enter the Temple of the Ancients. When you vanished, we thought you had forgotten us- or been killed by the Elders. Now that you have returned, our alliance still holds: destroy the Elders, and we will help you./

Aithne nodded reflectively. "Excuse me," she said to the One. "Um…One, my companions do not understand you. Allow me to explain briefly."

The One nodded graciously. /As you will,/ he said. Aithne nervously tucked a stray curl behind her ear. If he suspected anything it could be the death of them.

She turned to Mission and Canderous. /I'm pretty sure I betrayed these people before,/ she told them quietly in Twi'leki. /I promised this guy to wipe out the rival tribe and give them the information they had so that he could help me get into that temple Teethree found. Apparently, we need help to get in. I…I'm guessing I went straight to the other tribe. If they had the information this guy needs to help us, I would have thought it a whole lot simpler. I'm going to try to find out some more./

/Alright, / Canderous agreed in Mandalorian, /But be careful./

Aithne thought for a moment before turning back to the One. "Um..I…I will help you," she lied finally, "but I'll need my questions answered first."

The One growled briefly in his throat, then replied grumpily, /I suppose that if what you say is true- that you cannot remember when you were last here- then you must have many questions. Very well. I will help you to understand and then you will destroy the Elders tribe and fulfill the oath you swore to us long ago./

Aithne looked over at a Rakatan passer-by. He carried the severed head of a Duros, probably some other shipwrecked idiot, looking at it and licking his lips with a long, slimy green tongue. Aithne saw Mission shudder behind her. "Um…okay," she said. "What happened last time?"

/You arrived with Malak, your servant, three of your galactic standard years ago,/ The One explained. /My scouts saw your sky ship plummet to the earth and they went to loot the crash site. They tried to take you prisoner, but you unleashed your magic- what you called the Force- upon them. Seeing your power they bowed before you and brought you to me. You used your power to rip the Rakata language from my mind, even as you drove Basic into our skulls so we could help you in your quest to find something called the Star Forge/

Aithne shook her head in disgust. _Force, I was lazy_.

/The answers you sought lay within the Temple of the Ancients,/ The One continued, /and we could not help you enter the Temple. The Elders alone hold its secrets, guarding them with their very lives./

Aithne sighed. That was what she had suspected. "I..I see," she said. "You say my ship crashed. Was it because of a disruptor field?"

She felt Mission and Canderous perk up behind her, but the One was shaking his head. /I know nothing of this disruptor field,/ he replied, /but throughout our history ships have fallen from the sky. It has always been this way; though in recent generations it has become more frequent. We have little understanding of such magics to make metal fly, but my scouts rush to take whatever we can carry from the crash sites in the hopes that we may one day unlock these secrets. We did acquire our rancor beasts this way,/ he added, with considerable pride.

Aithne shook her head, uninterested. "My pilot was able to land my ship without plowing up your beach," she said. "But it needs parts to fly again."

/This I cannot help you with,/ The One said. /Although we have recovered many strange devices from the sky ships that crash to the earth, their use is a mystery to us. As a show of good faith, I will allow you to search the stores of our tribe and take whatever you find. In exchange, I know you will destroy the Elders and bring back the secrets they guard./

He sounded a little uncertain. Aithne didn't blame him. Revan had betrayed him before. Looking with distaste at a baby rancor devouring an unidentifiable body in the corner, she thought Aithne might betray this tribe as well. "Who are the Elders?" was all she said, though.

The One smiled, happy to be back on topic. /The Elders guard the ancient secrets. Within their compound is the knowledge of power and magic, including the knowledge of how to enter the Temple itself. I have lost many warriors storming the gates of their compound, but they use weapons of light and fire against us, and not even our war beasts are strong enough to breach their defenses. Sometimes we capture an Elder when they venture forth from their compound, and we have learned something about them. That is how we know they guard the ancient secrets. But no matter what tortures we inflict upon them, they will not reveal their secrets to us. They fear the knowledge they themselves guard, and they will never willingly surrender it to us./

Aithne breathed deeply, taking this most interesting information in. "A moment," she said to the One, turning to Canderous and Mission. /Alright,/ she whispered. /I'm going to try to get us out of here./

/What are you going to do?/ Mission asked, easing her blasters so they were more accessible in their holsters.

Aithne sighed. /I think what I did last time,/ she said, not without some distaste. These people were horrible, but she didn't exactly want to break her word, either. "I will kill the Elders and share their secrets with you," she announced to the One.

The One nodded, pleased. /I see you have changed since last time,/ he remarked. /The compound of the Elders is to the South, beyond the Temple of the Ancients. From torturing the few Elders we have captured, we know something of what lies beyond the gates. The Elders are few in number. If you can get past the exterior defenses, you could surely slaughter them all. Then you can bring us back the knowledge they guard./

"I could," Aithne agreed. "I will slay the Elders and honor our deal," she promised.

/Really?/ Mission asked with some disapproval.

/No,/ Aithne answered bluntly. Mission blinked.

/When you have our information,/ The One said, /bring it here to me. Until then, you may move freely about our village. I will be waiting for your return./

Aithne nodded respectfully to the One, and backed away. She muttered to the others in Twi'leki. /Look around in some of the bins for parts. He's letting us. Then let's get gone./

The three of them spread out across the room, looking in several wicker bins and packing up parts Mission advised. Talking to no one, they made their way out of the Enclave and down the beach. Finally, they got out the com-link.

"Jolee, we have some parts. And some information. What do you have? Come in. What do you have?"

The cranky old man's face showed up on the communicator, smiling wryly. "A bunch of dead Mandalorians. Traitors, the lot of them. And rancors. The island's full of them. They're like those damn gizka…I think I saw a few of those, too. That crazy droid of yours is having fun at least. Oh, and the Temple's locked."

"We know, but thanks for the information," Aithne said. "I'm working on it. We're actually headed your way. Over and out." She switched channels, calling, "Carth, it's me. Come in."

"I'm all ears, beautiful," he smirked as his face came into focus. "What do you have?"

"Stuff it, flyboy," she retorted, smiling nonetheless. "We have parts. That's what we have."

"We went South," Carth said. "We found a wreck, and we have a bunch of parts, too. But now we're standing in front of this stone enclave. It's pretty heavily guarded, with all sorts of statues around of goggle-eyed aliens."

"You found the Elders," Aithne said. "Stay there. I'm on the way."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So this chapter didn't actually need a whole lot of tweaking. But there's not much story here. The next one ought to be better. I'll probably give it a bit more of an overhaul, too: Forty and Forty-One are where I'm going to try to redeem Juhani. Wish me luck. I'm gonna need it. **

**May the Force Be With You, **

**LMSharp**


	40. The Death Toll

**Disclaimer: Meh. KotOR's not mine. Nor are the Elders, the Black Rakata, Mission, Canderous, Carth…well you get the idea.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Forty<p>

By the time Aithne, Mission, and Canderous arrived outside of the Elder compound, all six of the others were already there. Carth came up to Aithne immediately.

"Elders," he said, cutting straight to the point as usual. "What do you mean? Who are these people? Have you been here before?"

Aithne grimaced. "One question at a time, Carth, please," she said. She turned to face the entire group. "Right. So it turns out that yes, I was here before as Revan. But in answer to the question that Jolee hasn't asked yet, no, I still don't remember these people or what happened when I was here."

Jolee chuckled softly, but he and Carth still looked worried. Aithne frowned.

"Then how do you know you have been here before?" Juhani asked.

"We got some parts from a tribe of cannibals up the beach," Canderous informed the group. "They had a prior understanding with Revan."

"Apparently these people can control the temple lock, but the Elders hold the knowledge," Aithne sighed.

"Last time Revan was here, she promised to kill off these Elders or whatever and bring their knowledge back to that other tribe," Mission said, trying with some effort to keep the judgment out of her voice.

"I didn't, though," Aithne said, somewhat defensively. "They're still here, and that electric defense is still working." She gestured at the pillars stood around the gateway to the Elder enclave. A fine line of electricity ran around them.

"She promised she'd kill them again to get away from those cannibals and their pet rancor-monsters," Canderous said.

Aithne prodded the dirt with the toe of her shoe, not looking at anyone. "I don't intend to kill anyone," she said quietly. "I intend to find all the parts we need, disable the disruptor field, and save Bastila. That's it. The only one I really want to kill in this entire quadrant is Malak."

"You alright, beautiful?" Carth asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"She doesn't like breaking her promise," Mission said. "Even if it was to a bunch of cannibals."

Jolee sighed. "Why must you always make things so hard on yourself, lass?"

Aithne swallowed. "I'm fine," she said, a bit too loudly. "I have to go inside and find out what mess I made when I was here last. Who wants to come?"

The moment the words left her mouth Aithne knew they were stupid. It turned out the entire crew wanted to come. But if Aithne didn't want to end up killing the entire compound, she couldn't very well go storming in with half an army. She was forced to choose her companions.

Aytchkay was not, under any circumstances, to come with her to negotiate peacefully with a tribe when there was the option to kill them all instead. Even if he didn't find some sort of loophole, phrasing her instructions to him and putting up with his complaints would be exhausting. Leaving him meant leaving either Jolee or Canderous to deal with him. In the end Aithne left them both, along with Teethree, Mission, and Zaalbar. Canderous led the group with the parts they'd recovered back to the ship. Teethree was going to begin repairing the _Hawk_.

Aithne stayed at the compound with Juhani and Carth. Carth's request to stay and help could not be denied, not now, and if Juhani was feeling up to spending time with her again, Aithne felt it could only be a good thing. The younger Jedi had been avoiding her for weeks, passing by in shamefaced silence.

As the others rounded the bend and walked out of sight, Aithne approached the columns. She stepped through the gateway with some trepidation. Something pulsed, and Aithne flinched. But they were not incinerated. Instead, a holographic projection of a Rakata appeared. He was dressed differently than the Rakata in the tribe of the One. His robes reminded Aithne of the Jedi, a little.

/You are not Rakata,/ he said in some surprise. /What is your business here, off-worlder?/

Beside her, Juhani seemed to focus for a moment, then her expression cleared as the Force within her processed and translated the Rakata tongue for her as well.

"These people are definitely more advanced than the others," Aithne murmured to her companions at the use of the word "off-worlder". She nodded politely at the holographic projection, and licked her lips. On a whim, she announced, "I seek the Star Forge."

Her voice rang out clear and confident, and the Rakata projection stepped back. Shock was written across its amphibious features. /You…you are Revan!/ it gasped. Aithne groaned. The projection looked over his shoulder and seemed to have a moment's discourse with someone. Then it looked back, blinking. /The Council wishes to speak with you,/ it said. /You may enter./

The electric field shut off, and the stone door slid up with a grumbling grind as old machinery worked. Aithne led the others inside. "Force," she muttered. "A Council wants to see us. That can't be good."

"I take it they know you?" Carth said.

"Apparently."

Aithne looked around. The interior of the Elder Enclave was clean and austere-looking. Rakata milled about. These Rakata were not the gray of the cannibals, but orange, and all dressed in those quasi-Jedi looking robes. Their teeth were intact. But Aithne blinked, and her skin crawled. She felt out, felt around, but they felt _dead_. There was no Force presence in these people. In any of them. She gripped Juhani's arm. "Juhani…"

The other woman shuddered. "I feel it, too," she said. "They are Force-blind, all of them. It is not possible."

Aithne frowned. She hadn't noticed it so clearly among the cannibals, because the rancor monsters had been around giving off their nasty Force signature, but the One had been so remarkable because he'd been the only Rakata that gave off any indication of being at all open to the Force. She turned to tell Juhani this, but just then, a Rakata came up and bowed to them.

"I think he's come to collect us," Juhani said. The Rakata motioned them to follow, and Aithne and the others did not argue.

The Rakata led them a little ways, into an open area shaped like a semicircle. Five Rakata hooded in white were waiting for them. They gazed at her coolly, and Aithne felt suddenly nervous.

The one in the center addressed her. /We of the Elder Council did not expect to see you again, Revan,/ he said. /We thought you had betrayed us. Why have you returned to our village after all this time?/

Behind her, Aithne heard Juhani whisper to Carth. "Aithne has indeed been here before. The Council addresses her as Revan, says she betrayed them, and ask of us why she has returned."

Aithne sighed. "I come here now because I came here then," she told them. "What did I want, years ago? What happened?"

/Is this some type of test, Revan?/ A Council member to the side demanded. /Some type of trick?/

The central council member interjected. /You came seeking our aid;/ he said with quiet dignity. /You came in search of a way to enter the Temple of the Ancients. You claimed to be seeking a way to destroy the Star Forge, and we were foolish enough to believe you./

Aithne's face fell. Behind her, Carth and Juhani frowned as she translated.

The Elder Council member continued. /Unaware of your true nature, we helped you enter the Temple. But you betrayed us, Revan. Instead of destroying the terrible legacy of our ancestors you unleashed the evil of the Star Forge on an unsuspecting galaxy. And now you stand before the Council of Elders once more and once more we ask you: for what reason have you returned, Revan?/

Aithne slumped. "Alright," she said. "Look. You seem nice enough. You're certainly smarter than the last set. Many things have happened since we met last, and the long and short of it is that I have no idea what happened last time. I don't remember you or what I did. And you're telling me this story now and all I can think of is how that sounds like something that Revan would do, but I'm _not her_ anymore."

Carth beamed to her right, and Aithne took heart at his approval.

The Council was not convinced however. The one furthest on the right frowned. /Do you think we are fools, Revan? Do you think we have forgotten how you lied to us last time? Why should we believe you now?/

Aithne met him stare for stare, and then took in the entire Elder Council. "My mind was destroyed since last time. It has been rebuilt, but my memories were lost and my entire identity changed. I go by Aithne Morrigan now, and all I know about my past is what others tell me."

The central Elder considered. He looked at some of his companions. They nodded. /They say that the experiences of our past define us and make us what we are,/ he said carefully. /If it is true you have lost your memories, then perhaps you are changed. But how are we to know this is not some trick, Revan?/

"Aithne," Juhani said firmly to the Council. Aithne felt a rush of gratitude towards her.

/I've yet to see any evidence of it,/ the Council member replied, unruffled. /You say you are Aithne Morrigan, yet here on our world you repeat the pattern of your last visit. Like the last time, you have crashed here. Like last time, you have come seeking our help. How have you changed, Revan?/ He emphasized the name slightly. Aithne got the feeling he was daring her.

"I don't blame you for being suspicious," she said carefully. "I'm not sure I would trust me either. But if you give me a chance, you may judge me by my actions."

The Elder seemed to smile. Aithne got the feeling she had just walked headfirst into a trap. /We sense you mean the words you speak,/ the Elder said smugly. /But words are easy to say; it is actions that prove the true nature of your character. You must prove to us that you are not the same as you once were, Revan. You must prove that you have changed./

Aithne sighed. Since they had invited her in, they'd probably had this in mind. "What do you want me to do?" she asked quietly.

/Recently,/ one of the others said, /Several of our scouts were captured by the One. Most of them were brutally slaughtered, but we have information that one of the scouts is still alive. They will use unimaginable tortures to force the scout to reveal everything he knows about our tribe, and once the One is done with him, the scout will be executed like the others./

Aithne didn't doubt it. The One hadn't pretended any mercy or any decency towards the Elder tribe. Still, she didn't like where this was going.

The central Elder finished. /You must prove you have truly changed by risking your own life to save another. Rescue our scout from the clutches of the One, and we will consider helping you./

Aithne bit back a curse. She whirled around angrily, and paced in a rapid circle, running her hands through her hair until it stood up more crazily than usual. Blood pounded in her ears, and her face was hot. Finally she sighed, and turned back to the Council. "I'm going to end up slaughtering a tribe either way, aren't I?"

The Council regarded her without sympathy. /We would prefer if you could find some way to save the prisoner without bloodshed, but we don't believe that will be possible. The One does not like to negotiate./

"I'd noticed," Aithne said bitterly. "And if I save the prisoner, you'll help me?" This with a desperate plea in her voice.

The central Elder blinked. /Risking your life to save the prisoner would show us that you are sincere about making amends for the past,/ he said, not really answering the question.

"I made a vow to the other tribe, too," she said softly. "There isn't a good choice I can make here. Damn Revan!" Her voice broke, and Carth reached for her, but Aithne shook him off. "Fine!" she cried. "Fine! I'll help you," she told the Council angrily. A rogue tear slid down her nose.

/Return to us once he is free,/ the Council said imperiously. /Until then, you have free run of our Enclave./

The speaker made a gesture of dismissal. Aithne barely restrained herself from making a ruder gesture herself as she wheeled about. She stormed down the corridor.

"Really," she ranted to Carth and Juhani as they blew through the Elder Enclave. "Do I have 'heartless killer' written all over me, or something?" She kicked the wall viciously.

"Slow down, Aithne," Juhani said urgently. "Do not let your anger carry you away. Anger is…"

"Oh, leave the Dark Side lectures to Bastila!" Aithne snapped. "I don't care! In case you haven't noticed, I practically _was_ the Dark Side! Besides, _you're_ one to talk about anger."

Juhani blinked, and slowed her pace, hurt. Carth, however, quickened his pace, and caught Aithne's arm. "Hold it," he said. "That was out of line. She was just trying to help."

Aithne opened her mouth to say something particularly cutting, then closed it again. She closed her eyes, relaxing in Carth's grip. After a moment and a breath, she opened her eyes again. "You're right," she said in a quieter tone. She turned to Juhani. "Forgive me?" she asked.

"Of course," Juhani said softly. "You are right, you know. I am not one to talk to one such as you about anger." The words had a double meaning that Aithne caught immediately. She winced, then nodded.

"No one would no better than you how anger can lead to the Dark Side," Aithne said quietly. "Juhani- it has been a pleasure and an inspiration to watch you learning to control yourself- to watch you growing away from all that. I should listen to any wisdom that you have to offer. But you also probably understand why I'm kind of losing it right now."

Juhani smiled, a bit sadly. "There was a time when I would not have," she said. "And I admit, I still have trouble comprehending how a Jedi- how a woman such as you could have difficulties. But I am learning, Aithne. I am learning."

Aithne gripped her shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered.

Juhani nodded. "Despite your difficulties, you will do what is right in the end, I know." She turned away, and Aithne's hand fell to her side.

Carth looked from Aithne to Juhani and back to Aithne. He raised an eyebrow. Aithne pressed her lips together. "Come on, then."

The three of them continued down the corridor, at a slower pace. "You realize, Carth," Aithne said after a short, slightly awkward silence, "That these Rakata are probably the descendents of the Builders."

"The Builders?" Juhani inquired.

"They made the Star Forge," Aithne explained. "I don't know what happened to the 'Infinite Empire', but I'm willing to bet we'll find out, and soon."

"Is that what we're doing now?" Carth asked.

Aithne looked at him quizzically. Carth gestured behind him. "The Enclave exit is that way," he said mildly.

"Oh, ha-ha," Aithne said sarcastically, before realizing he was absolutely right. She stopped. Her eyes clouded, and then she began walking purposefully towards the back of the Enclave again.

"Memory?" Carth asked.

"Flesh," Aithne clarified. "My mind doesn't remember the sights, but my body remembers walking this way."

"Remind me not to take you to Coruscant," Carth joked. "You'd…"

"Probably drag you everywhere with no idea why I was going there," Aithne finished. "Yeah. It's annoying for me, too, you know."

"I find it interesting, myself," Juhani put in.

Aithne shot her a look, but said nothing. Aithne considered as they came to a fork in the corridor, and then she turned left. She stopped in front of a door, and looked down at a wrinkled old Rakata. This one was more slender than others she had seen, and the skin was a lighter shade of orange. Aithne got the feeling this was a female.

"Hello," she said, helping the Rakata to rise. "I don't know you, but I think I've been looking for you."

/Revan,/ the Rakata said. /Yes, the Council has told us what happened to you. I am Orsaa, Keeper of History for the Elder tribe./

Over the next hour or so, Aithne learned several things worth knowing. Historically speaking, she learned that the Rakata were indeed the descendents of the Builders, the last remnant of the Infinite Empire, a cruel one that fell when the Rakata genes mutated and Force Sensitivity was bred out of their species. They had been particularly strong in the Dark Side of the Force, she noted. The Elders in particular were descended from the priest caste of Rakata, the only ones that remembered technology and history truly. They repented of the sins of their forefathers, and were desperately trying to keep the knowledge of evil from tribes such as that of the One, who would abuse it.

Of more immediate import was that the disruptor field keeping the _Ebon Hawk _earthbound and threatening the approaching Republic Fleet could indeed be brought down from inside the Temple of the Ancients. But an energy barrier kept all the Force-blind out. The Elders were able to lower this barrier by a ritual chant passed down from their ancestors, but they could not enter the temple themselves. More gravely, the barrier could also be raised and lowered from inside the temple. When Revan had gone in with Malak, her apprentice had gained access to this technology, and the long and short of it was that the Temple of the Ancients now crawled with Malak's Dark Jedi.

Aithne thanked Orsaa and rose from her position on the floor, groaning a bit. Behind her, Carth and Juhani stretched.

"That was most informative," Juhani remarked as the three of them turned towards the exit.

"It was," Aithne agreed. She checked her chrono, scowling. "We have just time enough to visit the One's tribe and rescue that scout before supper."

"Will you really feel like eating?" Carth asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Aithne reached up and held his hand there for a moment, before squeezing and letting go. "No, but let's not discuss it. Should we call in a few of the others? The Rakata on the north beach really idolize the One, and he's not going to let the prisoner go without a fight."

Carth's face was heavy and lined as they left the Enclave together. Finally, he seemed to make a decision. "Call Canderous," he said reluctantly. "Have him bring Jolee and that psycho droid of yours. If we're going to slaughter a tribe we might as well do it right."

"I shouldn't have the rest of them come?" Aithne asked lightly.

"You don't want to bring Mission and Zaalbar into this," Carth replied. "And Teethree needs to fix the ship."

"Carth, I don't want to bring _us_ into this," Aithne snapped.

"It will be fine," Juhani said. "The task is distasteful, but necessary."

Aithne almost yelled at her again. But Juhani was only trying to make her feel better, and she was right, even if the task was a good deal more than merely 'distasteful'. Aithne brought up her com-link. "Canderous, come in," she said.

The Mandalorian's scarred face appeared on the communicator. "Yeah? What do you need?"

"We're slaughtering a tribe after all," she said tightly. "Get Jolee and Aytchkay. Meet us on the path leading to the north beach."

Canderous said, "Affirmative," in a voice flat, so she couldn't tell exactly what he thought of it. "Over and out."

Aithne's jaw was tight on the way over to the cannibal tribe. This whole business just made her feel dirty and deceptive. It made her feel like Revan. She greeted Jolee, Aytchkay, and Canderous with a nod, and flinched when Aytchkay went on about how excited and grateful he was to the master for letting him participate in a real bloodbath at last.

They were met outside the One's camp by several Rakata and rancor-beasts.

/Halt, interloper!/ they cried. /We have observed you! You are a servant of the Elders! By order of the One you must die!/

Aithne's mouth twisted bitterly. The Rakata weren't even going to make things difficult for her. She nodded to the others, and they all attacked as one.

They were unstoppable. On Aithne's left, Juhani sprang lightly from rancor to rancor, dispatching the monsters with a grace and efficiency that somewhat surprised her. Aithne was vaguely and dispassionately conscious of dancing through the Rakata defense to slice them in two herself. She heard the hiss as her lightsabers met Rakata guts. She saw one open its filthy mouth wide in a scream of rage, only to receive a bolt from Canderous' big gun that blew his face beyond recognition.

Aithne stepped over the bodies. She felt numb and slightly sick as she led the party into the Enclave.

_These aren't my enemies! This isn't my fight! _screamed something inside of her spirit. Aithne ignored it. She cut down Rakata males, females, even young that got in her way as she advanced to the chambers of the One. She herself remained untouched, as did her companions. Jolee knocked Rakata aside with a Force Wave and Aytchkay shot them down with gleeful battle cries as they made their way along the corridor directly adjoining the One's chamber.

He stood there, with a guard. Maybe six elite warriors. Maybe seven. It didn't matter. They all would die.

/The Black Rakata shall never fall to you!/ he cried, his jaw working furiously with his gravelly language. But fear and resignation lurked in his eyes as Aithne approached, lightsabers whirling.

She wondered in some detached part of her brain how she could have possibly forgotten to ask Orsaa what these people called themselves. _Not that it will matter after today, _she thought, even as the One released four full-grown rancors.

The battle was a flurry of attack and defense. Instantaneous, emotionless, automatic reactions. The soldiers of the _Ebon Hawk_ fought as a seamless team. They knew one another's every move and weakness. Juhani and Canderous, the two strongest, most practiced fighters, focused their weapons on the rancors. Aytchkay fired his blaster rifle rapidly, letting out exclamations of glee that sickened Aithne. Jolee concentrated Force attacks on those the assassin droid struck down, but did not kill. Aithne herself battled in the middle of the Rakata. Carth stood at her back as he always did, guarding her, shooting the rancor that would have come up on Aithne in its eye. Aithne felt a wave of appreciation for him. Even now as they committed this terrible crime Carth stood with her.

She came face to face with the One, the only Rakata she had seen to have any sensitivity at all to the Force, though his aura was dark with evil and power-lust. She felt a kinship to him. As they fought, a lone tear burned a freezing path down her stone-hard face.

"You had to know you didn't have a chance," she whispered to him as she thrust a lightsaber through his chest. His eyes, glassing over, looked at her with hatred. "Forgive me," she said.

Then there was silence. All around, bodies lay sprawled- rancor and Rakata. An open rancor-prison contained more Rakata corpses.

But these were Elder, orange-skinned and impaled upon stakes. Save one. The lone survivor knelt on the dirt floor. Whitish blood leaked from his numerous wounds. Aithne walked over to him wearily. She helped him to his feet, willing the Force through him to give him strength.

/You…/ he rasped, /you have saved me from the savages and their war-beasts./

Aithne fought an urge to vomit. "Yes. Your life for this entire tribe. The Council seemed to think it a good idea. They sent me."

/I don't know what I could have done if you had not come,/ the Elder scout confessed. /I suppose I would be dead now, like the others they captured with me./

Aithne sighed, unable to hate the scout despite herself. "There's been enough death," she said quietly.

/Thank you for saving me,/ the Elder continued. /I shall attempt to return to the Enclave on my own./

He released her hand, and staggered a step away. Aithne stopped him. "Hey. Hold it. You're in bad shape."

The Elder shook his head, and moved to go again. Aithne nodded at Juhani and Carth.

"Look, if you're determined to go off on your own, at least take a medpac and a blaster. Rancors are everywhere out there."

Juhani handed him a medpac without a word, and Carth similarly gave him a blaster, one of some half-dozen ordinary spares they had.

The Elder took them, and turned to Aithne. /Again, Thank you. I will tell the Council of what you have done./

Aithne's friends parted to allow the scout, now walking a bit steadier, to depart. He moved through the Black Rakata bodies and the silence, and Aithne watched him go, feeling an incredible bitterness well up inside of her.

"Go," she said softly, fiercely to the others.

"Morrigan," Canderous began.

"Go!" she cried out angrily. Doubtfully, he turned, leading the others away, back towards the ship. Aithne didn't watch them.

Numbly, she sank down in the center of the floor, among the corpses of a once great tribe, the war-like descendants of the Infinite Empire.

Aithne felt out for the Force, felt out for life; but all around her, there was only death. Above her head, far, far away through the atmosphere of the planet she felt the legions of the Sith swarming. Their hatred pressed in upon her in a concentrated, overwhelming wave of malice. There, too, she felt a great, disinterested, ancient evil. She knew it must be the Star Forge. She retreated into herself, fleeing from the darkness, but there was no refuge. The hatred and loss were a sea about her. The emptiness of the Black Rakatan Enclave rose up to mock her, and Aithne knew the slaughter she had led today would always be a part of her. The promise she had broken, the murders she had committed, would follow her for an eternity.

And it wasn't just this battleground. Corpses stretched across the galaxy with the marks of Aithne Morrigan's blade on them. Animals. Exchange thugs. Gang members. Sith. Businessmen. Sons, daughters, sisters, brothers.

And though Aithne had killed dozens, the stench of death didn't even end there. The trail went further back, the list of crimes went on for ages. The only thing that changed was the name. How many hundreds had died because of her, because of Revan? How many thousands? The Sith above: all that hatred and darkness had collected to _her_ banner. This whole miserable war was her fault. And she would carry that around on her shoulders until the end of time.

Her heart rose into her throat and threatened to choke her. She breathed in dust and death and thought she might suffocate. But then, just as the guilt and despair threatened to drown her, she felt a vibrant presence just behind her. Confidence, hope, and sympathy emanated from him. Aithne wanted to turn, to throw herself into his arms, but instead she drew her knees up to her chest, ashamed by how much she needed him.

"I thought I told you to go," she said. She didn't look at Carth.

"I'm not leaving until you are," Carth replied. He sank down to sit beside her in what would be the graveyard of the Black Rakata, until their pride and their evil and their hunger sank into the abyss of time.

He was waiting for her, there for her, and she couldn't stop herself. Through the Force, Aithne clung to Carth. She held on to his protectiveness, to his courage, to his strength. Somewhere far off, she realized that Carth Onasi was no longer a broken man.

So she turned to him. She looked into his eyes, and accepted the comfort he offered as a gift, a grace she didn't deserve. She fell into his waiting arms and clung to him physically, as if he were the only thing holding her to reality. She trembled. Perhaps he was. The darkness sang around her and through her. It still called from the slaughtered bodies here, taunted her from the trail of crimes leading all the way back into oblivion. But in Carth's arms, Aithne rejected it, at least for a while.

After a little time had passed, Aithne was able to rise. Carth stood with her. Hand in hand, walking slowly and with the proper respect, they left the Black Rakata compound and made their way back to the Elders. They were ushered in front of the Council as evening drew nigh.

/Revan,/ the central council member addressed her. /You are back. Our scout has told us of how you rescued him. His injuries are severe, but we believe he will survive. We are grateful for what you have done./

"That's nice," Aithne said. "You're grateful that I took on your battle so that you may pretend that you've risen above your heritage. You're grateful that I slaughtered them for you. Scores of them. For one of your own." She knew that it was unwise to speak so clearly. She knew she was probably insulting them. But she couldn't help it. "It still was wrong, your gratitude notwithstanding. The Black Rakata were a cannibalistic, bloodthirsty people, and yet I mourn their deaths, and the loss my honor has sustained for the promise I broke to them, if yet I retain any honor to lose." She swallowed and looked up into the Council's dry and scaly faces, confronting them with what they had ordered. When she spoke again, her voice was softer. "Please say that you will help me."

The Council looked at one another. /Risking your life to save our scout seems to prove that you have changed significantly since the last time you were here…Aithne,/ one said, bowing to her a little.

Another spoke up in a harsher tone. /But you have deceived us before. We must discuss this in greater detail. We must have some privacy. We will return when our deliberations are done./

Without another word the Council filtered out. Aithne laughed helplessly, spreading her hands. "They're still thinking about it," she told Carth. "After all that."

"They'll help us," he told her solidly. "They have to. The Republic…" His face betrayed his worry for the army probably even now on its way.

Aithne nodded in agreement. The two stood there in silence, waiting for the verdict. It was not too long in coming. Twenty minutes later the Elder Council returned.

/Aithne Morrigan,/ one addressed her. /You have rescued a member of our tribe from the One at great personal risk to yourself. We believe this action…and the remorse you have shown for the necessary bloodshed it accompanied, shows that you have truly changed since your last visit here. The Council has decided we will help you once again./

Aithne broke out into a smile of relief. "Carth, they're going to help us," she said breathlessly. Carth's face remained stoic.

/Wait to celebrate until they've told us what their 'help' involves,/ he said, surprising her by speaking in Mandalorian. She stuffed down her surprise, though, and looked back at the Elder Council. He was right.

The Council went on to explain again what Orsaa had already told them before. The Elders, being Force blind, could not enter the Temple of the Ancients themselves. Nor could Aithne, without the ritual chant they offered, hope to enter and destroy the Star Forge without their help. /You need us as much as we need you,/ they told her seriously.

"Given," Aithne answered tersely. The lead-up was going to a condition, she thought. Something she wouldn't want to hear. "Go on."

/For our own sake, and that of the entire galaxy, we hope you truly mean to atone for your past evils,/ a Council member said. /When you are ready, Aithne, we will take you to the Temple. But the Temple is a place of sacred power. If you are to enter, you must do so alone, in the tradition followed by our Rakata ancestors for the past thousand generations./

Aithne's eyes flashed. She turned to Carth. "They're going to take me to the Temple," she said angrily. "But they want me to go alone."

Carth began to protest, but Aithne cut him off, turning back to the Elders. "Why do I have to go alone?" she demanded. "Your Keeper of History informed me there are Dark Jedi."

The Elders' faces were hard. /When you were last here, we broke the ancient tradition,/ they said. /We allowed you and your apprentice to enter the Temple together, and you unleashed untold suffering upon the galaxy./

Aithne opened her mouth to argue. The central council member held up a claw. /We believe you truly wish to destroy the Star Forg_e_ this time,/ he said. /But the lesson of the past is not easily forgotten. We will not defile the sacred ritual a second time; only you alone may enter./

Aithne bit her lip. It seemed almost appropriate, she thought, upon reflection. Dark Jedi or no Dark Jedi, she had entered the Temple three years ago as Revan, defiling tradition and breaking two vows. She returned now as Aithne, but she was still paying for Revan's crimes with every breath she took in. And so was everyone else, she thought wryly.

So when she looked up, a moment later, she dropped Carth's hand. "I…I understand," she said quietly, but firmly. "I will meet your ritual speakers at the Temple at dawn. Alone."

"Aithne, you can't!" Carth cried.

The Elder Council cut him off with a gesture of dismissal. /So be it./

Aithne turned away to make her way back to the _Hawk_. "I can do this, Carth," she told the pilot firmly, walking ahead of him. "I can and I will. This is my wrong to right." As she said the words, her vision came to her with new force. Red on black on blue. There was an emptiness at the top of the Rakatan Temple, an openness in her destiny, and a presence. There was a presence waiting for her. Soon.

Carth caught up to her. "Don't do this, Aithne," he pleaded. "You don't have to do this alone."

Aithne ignored him and moved ahead again. The wind moved through her hair and whispered of change. Restlessness surged through her bones. The Republic was coming. The war would end, one way or another. And it would all hinge on tomorrow.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Rewriting this story, there have been several fundamental character shifts in Aithne. Partly, it's because the main character in any RPG is largely self-generated. **_**I've**_** changed in the year and a half since I first wrote this. I also think I'm a more sensitive and realistic writer. **

**The first time around, Aithne didn't ACT like a general, or a twenty-eight/-nine year old woman. She acted, for the most part, like a fifteen year old smartmouth. Her reactions were hardly ever appropriate to the situation, she often did exactly what she charged Trask with doing in Chapter One and rushed in without thinking, and she was inconsistent as a character: callous and compassionate by turns. **

**This time I think I've handled Revan a little better. She's gotten a lot more serious. She doesn't recover from things as easily as before and is consistently more compassionate **_**and**_** consistently more calculating. She still can be childish at times. Sometimes she still holds a grudge or speaks out of turn. And she's still about as artless when it comes to romance as anyone could possibly be, and more clueless and awkward than most people could believe. But those were always the flaws I built into the character. Anyway, I'm glad I rewrote this, for her sake. **

**On other fronts, this is the first time in the story that Carth has been shown to be completely well. It just gets better for him as the plot moves ahead. The big confession comes up in Chapter Forty-Two, as does the first AU turn, but Bastila makes HER reappearance next chapter. I've missed her. **

**I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, and I apologize for the wait. Your reviews, as ever, are very much appreciated. **

**May the Force Be With You,**

**LMSharp**


	41. Ill Met at the Temple Summit

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the game, characters, or plot.**

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><p>Chapter Forty-One<p>

CARTH POV

Carth didn't catch up to Aithne again. By the time he got to the Ebon Hawk, she was already in the dormitory. She had been practically running by the end, looking straight ahead as if in a dream.

Carth knew well enough that he couldn't hope to get her to listen to him if she hadn't already. And it was true, too, that they had to get in that temple and shut the disruptor field off. The first Republic ships might begin arriving as early as tomorrow, and the rest of the fleet that remained would arrive within the week. They didn't stand much of a chance even without the field. With it they were coming to their deaths. Aithne could shut it off inside that temple, but as remarkable as she was, with all the Sith in there, Carth knew she couldn't do it alone. She was a terrible stealth op.

And there was more. Something was _coming _for Aithne. Carth could feel it. That point-of-no-return that he'd foretold was right around the corner. He had to be there for her. He just had to. But how could he if she wouldn't listen? Carth ran his hands through his hair, and then turned towards the med bay.

"Jolee," he cried. "Jolee!"

"Once is enough, dammit!" came the voice of the cranky old man. "That's the problem with the youth of today. Can't wait for anything. Well, sonny, come in before your aura explodes."

Carth went in. He couldn't think of how to phrase his request. All he knew was that Jolee was the right person to ask. He paced back and forth. Jolee watched him calmly for about a minute, and then asked, "And what's got you so hot and bothered then?"

"They're letting her in," Carth said. "But only alone. And she's_ going_."

Jolee focused immediately. "You tried to talk her out of it?"

Carth shook his head violently. "She won't listen to me. She's got this glazed look on her face, like she's not even here anymore. She's been getting further and further away since we set out for this world."

Jolee nodded, face grim. "Mmmhmm. Aithne's aura was always turbulent, even before she discovered her identity. Since then it's been tempestuous. Since we arrived on this planet, it has appeared to me as if the forces of good and evil themselves have been tearing apart her soul. Something's coming. Something big."

"I feel it too," said Juhani. Carth turned. The Jedi Guardian stood in the doorway. Her face was troubled. "I have been meditating, and I see one thing only when I think of Aithne. A lightsaber, blood red, against a black ship and a blue sky."

Jolee closed his eyes. Carth gathered he was communing with Juhani, the way the Jedi did. "Yes," he said presently. "I see it, too. I sense there will be fear, and loss, and confusion, and anger. Beyond that…" his eyes flew open. "Tomorrow on the summit of the Temple, Aithne will be in the greatest danger of falling that she has been yet, even on Korriban."

Carth's stomach dropped. He clenched his fists. "She can't go there alone! Don't you dare let her go alone."

"No, you are correct," Juhani said distractedly. "We must not allow this. Jolee?"

"Count me in," Jolee said.

"I should…" Carth began, but Jolee shook his head.

"You should not. The Republic needs you here, to fix the ship and communicate with any incoming ships. Leave Malak's Dark Jedi to us."

"My place is with Aithne, too," Carth argued.

Jolee nodded. "It is. And…" he closed his eyes again, and gripped Carth's shoulder. Carth felt _something_ vast and mysterious brush his mind- the Force? Jolee nodded again in satisfaction. "Provided she does the right thing, you will fill that place for years to come. I can see that much."

Carth gripped Jolee's arm. "Help her," he said. The words came out half-strangled.

"We will," Juhani said with a bit more bite than necessary. "You are not the only one that cares for her, Carth Onasi."

Carth turned to her. He'd suspected earlier today that there were reasons behind the Cathar's increased solitude recently. "Then I can trust you to be just as careful of her safety- body and soul- as I would be myself," he said quietly, charging her. Juhani lowered her eyes. Anger at him, sadness, self-loathing, and hopelessness warred on her face, but she nodded.

"At the end of the day she will come back to you, Carth," she said. Her voice was almost too low to hear. "I will make sure that she is able."

Carth nodded. "Thank you." He took one last look at Jolee- it was impossible to tell what he thought of the exchange between Carth and Juhani. Carth guessed he hadn't heard or inferred anything he hadn't known already; the old man knew pretty much everything that happened on the ship. It didn't matter. He'd given his word to help, and Carth knew Jolee loved Aithne in the unique way that all the Jedi masters loved their pupils, for all Jolee made no claims to being a Jedi or a teacher of anything. Juhani- Carth didn't even need to look at her again to know she'd do her best. He left the med bay. All he could do now was wait, and hope.

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><p>AITHNE POV<p>

The sun was rising over the Ancient Rakatan Temple when Aithne ran up to it. Five Elder Rakata knelt in a circle in front of the entrance around a small fire. At Aithne's approach, one rose.

/You have arrived. I will begin the ritual. It will take many hours, but when it is complete you must be ready. The shields will not stay down for long. Prepare yourself./

Aithne knelt behind the Elders, and they started to chant. But footsteps sounded behind Aithne, and they stopped. Another Elder stood. /Wait, someone's coming./

Aithne stood and turned. Jolee and Juhani were running towards her across the field. Aithne frowned. They shouldn't have come. She was even more annoyed at how grateful she was that they had.

Jolee stopped a few feet away from the fire. "You can't go in there alone," he said to Aithne.

Aithne sighed. "Jolee, Juhani…I must. It's tradition."

Juhani shook her head. "We have had a…a premonition. The Force has given us a vision. A lightsaber…"

Aithne felt a bit ill. "A red lightsaber raised against a black ship and a blue sky," she finished.

Juhani nodded. "There is great danger within the Temple. We will not let you face it alone."

Jolee continued, "You might be walking into a trap…maybe Malak himself is waiting inside."

Aithne closed her eyes. "Maybe not Malak, but _something's_ waiting. I've felt it for some time."

Jolee stared her down. "Even if there's no extraordinary danger, that Temple will be crawling with Dark Jedi. Aithne, you'll need our help."

/No other can go with you into the Temple,/ protested one of the ritual-speakers. /You must enter alone. That is the way of the ancient ritual./

Aithne opened her eyes. She swallowed, and turned back towards the Rakata. "Jolee, Juhani, you shouldn't have come. This is my fight. My wrong to right. Besides, the Rakata won't allow it."

Jolee put his hand on her shoulder and turned her around to face him again. "Both of us decided to come here today," he said with some asperity. "Your fight? We have made it ours as well. Are you going to stop us from throwing in our own destinies with yours? That's not your right. Your destiny-maybe the fate of the entire galaxy- could be forever changed inside that Temple. I'm not about to let you face that alone. Not after my premonition. There's a reason we have shared in your vision."

Juhani nodded briskly. "Jolee speaks for me as well, Aithne," she declared. "You must enter that Temple, but just as surely we must go with you!"

"So you just tell that guide of yours to do whatever he has to do to get all three of us inside that Temple," Jolee ordered.

Aithne stared at them both. Their faces were set. A huge weight seemed to lift off Aithne's shoulders. "You aren't going to change your minds about this, are you?" She smiled. "Thank you," she murmured. She turned back to the guide. "I won't be going in alone after all. Lower the shields, please."

/No!/ cried the Rakata in question. /You must enter the Temple alone! I will not lower the shields!/

Jolee sighed. "I haven't had the time to absorb the language as you and Juhani have, but it sounds like your guide is being stubborn."

"He is," Juhani confirmed.

Jolee grimaced. "We don't have time for this. The Republic Fleet is on its way and we're stuck on this planet until we deactivate that disruptor field. You have to convince him to get us inside that Temple!"

Aithne nodded. "I'll try," she said in an undertone. She focused her attention on the guide, the one that seemed to be in charge of the ritual. She layered her words with the Force, and spoke with conviction. "I will not be able to destroy the Star Forge on my own," she said smoothly. "My friends must come with me into the Temple. Please."

The Elder considered, then nodded. /I believe you. The Elder Council has said that you wish to destroy the Star Forge and the terrible legacy of our ancestors. If you need help to do this, I will not stand in your way any longer./

"Thank you," Aithne murmured.

The guide knelt. Aithne followed suit. /I will resume the ritual now,/ he informed her.

Jolee and Juhani knelt behind Aithne, so the three of them formed a triangle. Jolee muttered to the others, "Why do I get the feeling that this is going to take a while? Still, we better stay ready. As soon as those shields go down we have to get inside that Temple."

Aithne's knees were aching, and sweat was trailing down between her shoulder blades several hours later. Her eyes were bleary from staring at the Temple entrance. Judging from the way the sun beat down, it was nearing noon.

Aithne was aroused from her contemplation of the shape the Temple made against the sky when the droning of the Rakata reached a climax. A beam of energy took shape above the fire. Aithne rose, and the beam shot towards the shields. Aithne started running. Jolee and Juhani followed close behind. Aithne ignored the groaning of her muscles as she ran. Her feet met the stone of the Temple floor, and the coolness of the dark halls enveloped her just as the shield came down behind Juhani.

Aithne looked around. The Temple was stone, and remarkably stable for its age. Reaching out with the Force, Aithne recoiled from the strength of the Dark Side around her. It was more malicious and older than anything she had encountered on Korriban, even.

A great door stood right in front of her. She tried it, reaching out to it with the Force to compel it to open. Nothing happened. But Aithne had a feeling that this was the door she was to pass through.

She sighed. "That's the way we have to go," she said. Her words echoed in the listening silence. "But we can't yet. I think we're going to have to go around the entire building to go next door."

Jolee frowned. "We don't have time for this," he said, with no real anger. "Which way?"

Aithne thought for a moment. "Right," she said finally, turning and leading the way along the labyrinthine corridors.

They ran into droids relatively early on, but Aithne, particularly since the discovery of her identity, had been practicing on her ability to dispatch these with the Force. They were easily dealt with.

They combed the rooms of the Rakatan Temple of the Ancients, dealing with a few training Sith apprentices that got in their way, and searching for something, anything, that would enable the disabling of the disruptor field and get them to the summit of the Temple.

About halfway through the ground level of the Temple, Aithne came to a massive door similar to the first. She tried it wearily, and was surprised to find a steep ramp leading downward. Her brain pricked in uneasy recognition. She turned to Jolee and Juhani. "Come on," she said.

A droid guarded the lower level, but Jolee took it out without a thought, and Aithne continued through. She came to another doorway, this an open arch. Beyond it, she saw a massive computer interface, similar to the ones she'd seen in the mound on Dantooine. She walked forward apprehensively.

/Hello, Revan,/ the Computer said pleasantly in the Rakata tongue. /It has been some time since you last accessed my database. I was beginning to fear you had been terminated./

"Almost," Aithne said uneasily. "My identity was, anyways. I go by Aithne Morrigan now."

It turned out that the computer had been created by the ancient Rakata to keep an entire, uncorrupted history of their Empire and species. The computer controlled access to the upper levels, too. Aithne had been unable to access the Temple Summit because, due to neurological changes that had taken place since she had been Revan, similar to those the interface on Kashyyyk had denied her for, it no longer recognized her. By a brief conversation with the interface, though, the computer determined that she was still the same person it had previously granted access, and reset the door to recognize her again.

Aithne also learned a bit more about the Rakata than Orsaa, with her rote-learned tale, had been able to tell her. The Rakata had indeed once been a Force-wielding people. But they were evil and paranoid by nature, and when the Force had mutated out of their species, they had ultimately destroyed themselves. Their technology was superior to themselves though, and the Star Forge, a Dark-Side feeding space station and factory, and the Star Maps that led to it, had survived the collapse of the Rakatan Empire. But the Star Forge was more powerful than anyone who could try to wield it. Malak's followers would eventually be consumed by the Dark Side they tried to wield, and his empire would dissolve into chaos, just like that of the Builders.

Aithne thanked the computer, and turned to go. "That was useful," she remarked to Jolee and Juhani.

"Was it?" Jolee asked lightly.

"Yeah," Aithne said, forging ahead. "We really have to stop the Sith, guys. Both for their own sake and for the Republic."

"Aithne, forgive me," Juhani ventured, "but isn't the Summit the other way?"

"I got the layout of the Temple from the Rakatan computer," Aithne said. "It's roughly circular, and we're halfway through it. We trashed the cameras, so they're blind, but odds are that anyone going through the other half of the Temple will be looking for us, with the droids and bodies everywhere. They aren't really expecting us this way."

And they weren't. Aithne made her way through the rooms and corridors, looking for the right door.

"They all start to look the same after a while," she complained, striding into another room.

Two Dark Jedi arose from their meditation, glaring at her. "Who dares intrude on our meditations?" one, a female with a pretty strong aura, demanded. "You know the penalty for…" she took in Aithne's face and blanched. She gripped her lightsaber tightly, fear plain in her eyes. "Revan!" she exclaimed. "You are back!"

Aithne was a little impressed. "You recognize me? Hmm. You must have been pretty high ranking. I don't think I was in the habit of showing my face to the general public."

"You weren't," the Sith woman said in confusion.

Aithne extended her arms in a helpless gesture. "Look, I'm sorry if I knew you at all. I don't remember you. Well, I don' t remember anyone, really. I'm not exactly Revan anymore, you see, and I've definitely no interest in ruling the galaxy and whatnot."

The woman's brow darkened. "Malak told us what happened to you," she said harshly. "The Jedi Council has stripped you of your power. You are a shell of what you once were."

This irked Aithne, but she forced herself to smile amiably at the woman and her companion. "Care to test out that theory?" she asked, and was gratified to see both Sith flinch. "Since you know me, though- I don't know- we may have been friends, were we?"

The woman sneered. "We were not, but the fact that you would consider sparing me for that reason proves your weakness."

"You are not fit to rule the Sith anymore, Revan," the man said. "Malak will reward us greatly for destroying you!" He and the woman ignited their sabers. Aithne ignited her own.

"Or," she said lightly, "_I_ could reward you for trying." She met the woman's downward stroke with a crossed-saber block.

The man proved a pushover. He was young and overeager. The woman who had identified Aithne was much trickier. She threw Force attack after Force attack at Aithne and her companions, so that much of the energy they could have directed towards killing her was expended defending themselves. Finally, Juhani caught her off-guard with a lucky Force push, and Aithne was able to finish her.

An adjoining door opened, and a bald, scarred, older man peered out to see the source of the commotion. He caught sight of Aithne withdrawing her left saber from the side of the Sith woman, and his eyes widened.

He stepped into the room, grinning and activating his own double saber. Aithne groaned.

"Revan!" he said in a low, menacing voice. "Lord Malak told us you still lived! At last- a challenge worthy of my skills. I grow so bored with slaughtering these mindless training droids."

Aithne was so tired of Sith bravado. She stood up straight and put her hands on her hips. "As an opening combat statement that was disgusting, sloppy, and showy," she said. "You call yourself a Sith?"

The Sith drew himself up, needled. "I intensified my training tenfold in the hopes that I would get the chance to face you in mortal combat!"

Aithne rolled her eyes. "Did you? That was stupid of you. Apparently I'm 'a shell of what I once was', and your Lord Malak still _ran_ last time we fought." She remembered a certain dream she'd had, and laughed. "Have you ever asked him how he lost his jaw?"

The Sith couldn't take her ridicule. Aithne reflected that the Sith were by and large a humorless lot. Not one of them could take a joke at their expense. The ugly bald man attacked with a roar. Aithne sidestepped neatly, and sent a Force Wave at him that dropped him to his knees. Jolee hit him with a bolt of Force Lightning, then, and Juhani delivered what would have been a bone-crushing blow, but he blocked it, staggering to his feet. Aithne stepped up, and the Sith whirled to face her, only to meet a booted size ten to the chest, inside his guard. He stumbled backwards, and Juhani decapitated him with a look of serene contempt on her face.

"He should not have tried to fight angry," she said quietly. "Perhaps he was as formidable as he seemed to think he was, but because he was angry, he was the easiest opponent we've had in this Temple."

Aithne laughed. "Juhani, you have learned so much," she said. She clapped the Cathar on the shoulder, and Juhani's eyes lit with pleasure at the unaccustomed compliment.

Aithne led the trio into an empty adjoining room. She closed and locked the door and slid down the wall to sit momentarily.

"Let's breathe," she said. "Fifteen minutes. We need the break."

Juhani and Jolee sank to sit on either side of her. All three of them were sweaty and grimy, but more or less untouched. Juhani had a shallow scratch on one cheek. Jolee had been burned on the left wrist by a lightsaber that came just a bit too close. Aithne herself was limping a bit from a Dark Jedi they'd encountered earlier that had ambitions as a wrestler.

"I'm glad you guys came," Aithne said presently, after her heart rate had slowed a little.

"Jolee?" she asked a little later.

"Hmm?" he asked.

"After twenty years of being happy on Kashyyyk with the Wookiees, why'd you leave?"

"Are we back to that again?" Jolee grumbled.

Aithne chuckled. "Yes. Why me?"

Jolee seemed to consider. "What's the best way for me to approach this?" he asked. He seemed to be asking himself. Juhani and Aithne listened intently. "Ah, perhaps it's time for a little story."

Aithne grimaced. "You and your stories, I swear!"

Jolee glared at her. "You just keep quiet there. I've had to put up with all your busy body questions, haven't I?"

Juhani laughed, a soft, furry sound. Aithne grinned. Juhani had had more than enough experience with Aithne's questions herself. It was good that she was entering in on Jolee's criticism of them, though.

"Well now you'll listen to a story, dammit!" Jolee cleared his throat. "Now where was I? Oh yes, the story…you almost made me forget about it. Nice try, but I'm not that old just yet." He chuckled, and continued. "Now then, a young man sees a terribly venomous snake slide in his small village. Nervous, he watches the snake carefully until it leaves. The young man follows the snake into the forest. He clears the branches out of its path and even works to keep it fed."

Juhani's eyes flickered between Jolee and Aithne's faces. Aithne kept hers expressionless. "Does he, now?" she said. "Why?"

"Shush!" Jolee scolded. "Many nights pass and still the young man continues to follow the snake. He even follows it into the sands of a great desert. In the desert, the snake eventually grows hungry. It turns and bites the young man, its poison quickly working its way into his system. Finally curious, the snake looks at the boy as he lies dying and asks,

" 'Why were you foolish enough to follow me all the way out into the desert?' The boy looks back and replies,

" 'Did I follow you? I thought I was leading you away from everyone else.' And then he died."

"So what?" Aithne said, voice empty of emotion. "Was I the snake?"

Jolee pursed his lips. "Well now, that's what I wanted to see for myself." Juhani regarded the old man.

"You remind me of the teachers I had as an apprentice, "she observed.

"Jolee," Aithne said calmly. "I'm not a snake." But the implications of his story stung her.

Jolee seemed to accept her assertion. "Well, then, let's hope you're not the young man, either. I've told you before that you have a destiny before you," he instructed. "That doesn't mean, however, that your future is already written. They are not the same thing. You have a choice of which direction you take your destiny in. Certainly more than engine-sucking Andor, but even he had a choice. So far you've chosen to take the lighter path. Can you stay that course, even through the challenges ahead? We'll have to wait and see. I'm not here to judge you or tell you which path to take. I'm here ready to offer my help…should you ask for it."

"And sometimes even when I don't," Aithne muttered. Juhani glared, and Jolee ignored her.

" I do that because I think it's important. More important than remaining in my home and pretending the galaxy doesn't exist. That's why I'm here."

Aithne considered all this for a moment. Then she rose, helping Jolee up as well. She kept his hand, smiling.

"You know, you're a good friend," she informed him, then expanding the smile to include Juhani. "Both of you are. But Jolee, you're a good Teacher, too. I'm glad you came."

Jolee chuckled. "I'm rather glad I came, too, really," he admitted. "You're a fine young lass. I hope…I hope things turn out well for you."

Aithne grinned. "Let's go make sure they do," she said, leading the others out.

Rejuvenated, Aithne, Jolee, and Juhani got to the Temple Summit door in another fifteen minutes, despite a few Dark Jedi interruptions. They met no one else that recognized Aithne, or even was able to put up much of a fight. Aithne got the feeling that Temple duty was what Malak assigned to Sith either too annoying or too incompetent to send to war.

Still, as she stood in front of the door to the Temple Summit, she hesitated. She felt that presence, waiting for her. She shivered, not afraid for her life exactly, but more for her soul…and someone else's.

Finally, she opened the door and stepped through. She blinked in the bright light of the high afternoon sun. It was dazzling after two hours of running around in a dim ancient temple.

Then she saw it. There was a black ship parked on the opposite side of the roof. It stood out against the clear blue sky. This was it. Her vision and destiny had drawn her here to this moment. Aithne tensed, then walked forward apprehensively. A figure stood in an archway. As Aithne came closer, she recognized the person standing there. She bit back an exclamation.

"Revan," Bastila said coolly. "I knew you'd come for me. You spoke into my mind. You promised. Malak thought that you might be afraid to enter the Temple again, but he doesn't know you like I do. Not anymore. Not since you've changed."

Juhani strode forward. "Bastila, quickly," she said. "Come with us! We have to escape before Malak arrives!"

"Leave off, Juhani," Aithne commanded, stepping so she stood in front of Juhani and Jolee. She didn't take her eyes of Bastila for a single moment. The young woman in the Sith uniform smiled unpleasantly. Aithne's heart broke.

"Yes, Revan. I have sworn allegiance to Lord Malak and the Sith. I am no longer a pawn of the Jedi Council."

"Were you before?" Aithne asked, her voice quiet.

Bastila shook her head in a horrible put-on pity. "Surely you know what I mean, Revan," she said in her most arrogant, holier-than-thou tones. "Look at what the Council did to you; they turned you into their puppet. The same thing they do to all who are truly strong in the Force." Her face twisted in sudden anger. "They speak of the Dark Side as if it is something to be feared. But in reality their only goal is to manipulate those who are strong in the Force. The fear of the Dark Side is a tool to maintain control."

Bastila had a point, Aithne reflected. The Jedi Council had certainly manipulated Aithne, but she didn't believe the reasoning Bastila was giving her. "That doesn't even make sense," she argued. "The Jedi shun fear. You know that."

Bastila's cold blue eyes narrowed. "Why do you think the Jedi forbid you and Malak from joining the Mandalorian Wars, hmm?" she asked with a cruel twist of her lips. "They knew you would realize your true potential and break free of their domination. Malak has shown me how the Jedi Council have been using me the same way they once tried to use you. They've been holding me back because they knew one day I would surpass them all."

Words Bastila had spoken before to her floated back to Aithne. _The Dark Side can twist your ideals; it can turn you into a mockery of everything you once stood for._ Here in front of her, Aithne beheld a caricature of Bastila Shan. All arrogance and pride and anger, with none of the compassion and understanding she had also grown to associate with Bastila's china doll face. "Bastila, stop it," she said finally, shaking off the horror that gripped her lungs. "This isn't you talking. Come back to us. Leave the Dark Side."

Bastila smiled bitterly. "Oh, I resisted at first," she said softly, but every consonant crackled. "I endured the Sith torments with the passionless serenity of a true Jedi, emptying my mind. But after weeks of endless tortures, I finally saw the truth. Malak forced me to acknowledge my anger and pain." She spat the words at Juhani, in particular. "He showed me the liberating power of these emotions. Then he made me see how the Jedi Council has denied me what is mine by right!" She continued, half to herself. "The Jedi Council gladly used my Battle Meditation in their wars, but they still treated me like a child- like an inferior. They were jealous of my power…of what I could become! They wanted me to bow and call them Master and follow their Code and obey their every order. But all the while they were exploiting my Battle Meditation for their own use!"

Aithne sighed. There, again, Bastila spoke half-truths. She wished so much that Malak had filled her head with lies. Lies would be easier to sort out than the twisted truths Bastila was speaking now.

"The Council has been utilizing your Battle Meditation, Bastila," she said carefully. "I won't bother denying it. You're a commodity, and both sides in this war have been battling to make use of you. Hold it," she said, as Bastila opened her mouth in an angry retort. "It's the truth. Think about it. You have to see that Malak is using you just as much-more- than the Council did. You call him Lord. Master. You are expected to obey his orders, or you are punished. You just admitted that he's tortured you, Bastila! He's using you, like the Council did. _But!_ I never saw any evidence that the Council didn't care about you, and there's overwhelming evidence Malak doesn't. The Sith leave destruction in their wake. You've seen it. The Jedi build. Don't be taken in by Malak's lies."

Jolee nodded in approval, but Bastila bridled. "Lies?" she demanded. "You are the one living a lie, Revan. The Jedi Council made you into something you are not; they programmed you to be their slave."

That stung. "I'm no one's slave," Aithne growled.

Bastila smiled infuriatingly. "You used to be Revan, Master of the Sith, but no longer," she taunted. "You are simply a pawn of the Jedi Council and the Republic they serve…like I was until Malak freed me from their shackles! A pity the power you once had is so diluted in you. You could have been as strong as I am now…"

Aithne glared at her, crossing her arms. Bastila looked a bit chagrined for the first time since they'd started speaking. "Stronger, even," she admitted. "But that will never happen now. With the power of the Star Forge Malak will destroy the Republic and conquer the galaxy. And I will be the apprentice at his side- after I prove my worth by killing you!"

"Bastila!" Aithne cried as the younger woman suddenly activated her double-bladed Sith lightsaber. She lifted it high, and time seemed to stop. Red on black on blue. There it was. Was the premonition that had been haunting Aithne all week the premonition of her death at the hands of her best friend? Or did it foretell that she would kill Bastila? Aithne stared, all at once sweaty all over. Time restarted, and Aithne reacted just in time to activate her lightsabers and catch Bastila's down stroke. The force of the blow rattled her bones. Aithne stepped back warily.

She kept her guard up, but whatever her vision meant, she would not attack Bastila. Never. Apparently Bastila was restrained by no such scruples.

She attacked again in earnest. Aithne shoved Bastila's strokes to the side with the Force, shoving her back roughly with her hands. Juhani and Jolee watched the encounter. Their lightsabers were drawn. They stood ready to interfere if necessary, but they would hold back until then.

Bastila concentrated, and the Force rippled in the way that Aithne knew was Bastila trying to cripple her with fear. She merely shook her head, and stepped aside. She formed steel walls around her mind and body with the Force.

Bastila let out a cry of frustration and ran at Aithne again. Aithne stepped to the side quickly. She danced behind Bastila's guard and tapping her on the shoulder with a forefinger as she passed. Bastila knew she could have decapitated her, and it infuriated her.

"Coward!" Bastila cried. "Fight me!" She whirled, executing a complicated lightsaber maneuver. Aithne anticipated her. She locked Bastila's blade between her two sabers and exerted her greater strength and height to force the younger woman to her knees.

Bastila deactivated her saber, panting. Aithne stepped back. "You got that out of your system?" she said calmly, after a moment. "Bastila, you're good, but I got the Mandalorian Wars on you, even if I don't remember it. And though I make no claim to having mastered _Battle Meditation_, I've always been stronger than you in the Force."

Bastila accepted her defeat with grace. She nodded and rose. "It seems that Malak was wrong," she said breathlessly. "The power of the Dark Side is not lost to you after all, Revan."

Aithne shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. She looked away. "No. But nevertheless, I reject it."

Bastila shook her head. "You can deny what you are, Revan," she said softly. "But you are only fooling yourself. I know the truth. I have seen the shadows inside your mind. Remember: I was there when you nearly died in the trap set by the Jedi Council. I used the Force to preserve your life, Revan. We are forever linked by my actions on that bridge!"

Aithne didn't want to think about the implications of that. She closed her eyes briefly, praying for strength. "Actions from a person too full of compassion to ever fully abandon the Light," she said.

Bastila rolled her eyes. "These are not your true feelings, Revan," she said passionately. "You are speaking as a tool of the Jedi Council- as I once did. But now I see how the Jedi used us both! The Council tried to exploit the bond between us. They hoped I would draw out your memories to lead them to the Star Forge. We were slaves to their will- like all who follow the Jedi Code! But in our shared visions of the Star Maps I also felt the so-called taint within you. I resisted it at first, but now I embrace the power of the Dark Side- your Dark Side!"

Aithne shuddered. She gazed at Bastila, considering. Yes. Here were some of her darkest thoughts personified. Here were some of her least admirable traits. Looking at the woman in front of her was rather like looking into a dark mirror, now. The guilt fell onto her shoulders with all its original weight. "What? You've embraced my arrogance? My foolishness?" Her voice cracked.

"Your power, Revan!" Bastila cried. "You deserve to be the true master of the Sith, not Malak. I see this now! Together we can destroy your old apprentice. Join with me and reclaim your lost identity!"

Aithne started shaking. "Stop calling me that," she said weakly. "Revan's dead. She died on the bridge of her flagship about two years ago. I don't remember her."

Bastila's eyes flickered with what appeared to be genuine pity. "Your mind was too badly damaged to ever fully restore your memories, Aith…" She cut off. Aithne blinked. Bastila scowled at the slip-up. "Revan. But your power, your strength of will, the essence of who and what you are, these things remain! I've seen it to be so since Taris! Once, long ago, you defied the Jedi Council, freeing yourself from their control. You claimed your rightful title of Dark Lord of the Sith. Together we can defeat Malak and take back what is yours!"

Aithne gazed at her in amazement. The real Bastila mocked her beneath the Sith uniform. The passion of the longwinded speeches. The genuine desire the woman was displaying for her companionship and help. How she had almost called her 'Aithne'. Bastila was still _in_ there somewhere, but lost. So lost. And was it really Aithne's fault? Didn't she have some sort of responsibility to fix this? She sighed. "Take back what? A people that constantly fight among themselves? A giant space station, only good for destroying the galaxy? Bastila, look, I want you with me, too. You're my dearest friend. But you can't do this, and I won't do it with you"

The Sith's face rippled again, and Aithne saw Bastila look out at her for a moment.

Juhani saw it, too. "Bastila," she pled, "It is not too late for you to be saved. The teachings of the Jedi can lead you from the Dark Side back into the Light and a true understanding of the Force."

Just like that, Bastila retreated, leaving a sneering Sith. "You are beneath my contempt, Juhani," she said. "When you felt the power of the Dark Side you fled to a cave like some cowering animal! You know nothing of the Force or its true potential!"

Aithne stepped in front of Juhani again. "Leave her alone!" she snarled at Bastila. "She's stronger than you know, and your speech is with me."

Bastila shook her head in admiration. "Look at you. Such strength. Such passion. Revan, the power of the Dark Side is yours to command! You can use it to destroy Malak! With my help you could rule over the entire galaxy! We could make it a better place!"

All prior argument seemed to lose its meaning. Aithne's heart turned over. Bastila had been with her in the beginning as they set out to destroy Malak. Could she destroy him without Bastila? Mightn't it be better to just—go along with Bastila for the moment. No doubt Malak needed to be destroyed. He'd betrayed her. He'd tortured and twisted Bastila. He had burned Telos and Taris and Dantooine, had hurt Carth and Mission and countless like them, had killed millions. Bastila could help her fix things. They could end this war and reshape this twisted, corrupted galaxy into some semblance of order.

Aithne bit her lip. She was surrounded every day by idiots. Surely she could do better. Surely she had the strength of will to command the Star Forge to build, not destroy. She had crushed the Mandalorians. She had been on the verge of conquering the galaxy…and now she had come all this way just to have that destiny handed to her again. Maybe…maybe it was her fate. It would be so easy to just reach out and seize it. She wouldn't have to hurt Bastila…they could fix everything. The Dark Side sang to her in encouragement.

Suddenly her vision came to her with new significance. A red lightsaber upraised against a black ship and a blue sky. _It didn't necessarily mean Bastila's, _Aithne realized. The Sith lightsaber she'd won on Korriban was in her pack. She knew it was. She felt its weight there. It seemed to press on her back. How had it ended up in there? She'd taken it out weeks ago…this morning she hadn't been herself, though. She could take it out, ignite it, and the red lightsaber in her vision would be hers.

That was what it meant, Aithne realized. _There's going to come a time very soon when you're going to have to make a choice_, Carth had said. _And there won't be any turning back. _She remembered his earnest face, pleading with her to make the right decision. This was the moment when she chose who to be. Was she Revan, Lord of the Sith? Or was she Aithne Morrigan? Who was Aithne Morrigan? The weariness she'd felt in her dreams of Darth Revan came back to her, and she recalled the utter futility of Revan's path. She was no goddess, to hold the galaxy in the palm of her hand. How many times had she snapped and made mistakes on this journey alone? She was a utterly human woman. And she couldn't pay the price of being a Sith Lord. She wouldn't. She had too much to lose.

Aithne stopped her hand halfway to Bastila's outstretched one. "I…I don't want it," she said with some surprise. "I don't want the Dark Side, or the galaxy." She smiled, relieved. "Bastila, as incredible as I am, I'm not big enough!" she laughed, delighted. "And I have too much to give up to go after galaxy domination." She smirked. "Maybe I'm amnesiac and half-mad, but I seem to remember there wasn't much fun in it, anyway."

Bastila's face contorted in disappointment and anger. "You are a pathetic fool, Revan!" She looked down at her lightsaber contemplatively.

Aithne focused on Bastila again abruptly. The joy of self-discovery gave way to a deeper peace and sudden insight. "And you still love me," she said gently.

Bastila shifted, buckling her saber hilt to her belt. "Together we could have defeated Malak and ruled over an Empire," she said bitterly. "But now I will be at Lord Malak's side instead. You will be crushed with the Republic and all the fools who bow to the Jedi Council!" This was said with a measure of regret. "No one can stand against the power of the _Star Forge_ or the Sith Fleet!"

With that, she turned and darted away. Aithne ran after her. "Bastila!" she called. "Bastila! Wait! Don't run from this! We need to talk…" but she was gone. Aithne watched. The engines of Bastila's ship blew Aithne's hair out of its arrangement as it lifted off and flew away.

Aithne's heart sank. Her eyes stung as she watched her friend fly away, deluded, twisted into something that Aithne knew that deep down she must despise herself for. Then she caught sight of a terminal beside where Bastila's ship had been parked.

Feeling a distinct sense of anticlimax, Aithne strode over to the terminal. There were only two commands on the computer, completely unsecured. One disabled the disruptor field. The other took down the Temple shields. Aithne ordered them both, then turned away, grimacing.

"Let's go. The Republic will be here soon."

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><p><strong>AN: Five chapters to go! And I might write an epilogue I never finished the first time 'round. The AU turn starts next chapter with the arrival of the Republic Fleet. Also up next, Carth confesses his love for Aithne, and we discover that not all the Jedi on Dantooine kicked the bucket when Malak attacked. Please leave a review if you have any praise or criticism to offer on this chapter, the story as a whole, or my writing in particular.**

**May the Force Be With You,**

**LMSharp**


	42. Call to Arms

**Disclaimer: By now, I should know I don't own this. You should know, too.**

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><p>Chapter Forty-Two<p>

The entire crew of the _Ebon Hawk_ was waiting for them when they returned. Everyone but Bastila. Aithne felt a pang for her fallen friend. But it wasn't over. She knew that much. They were all ranged out on the beach in various attitudes of anxiety. Carth sighted them first. He ran forward to meet them and matched his paces to theirs as they walked over to the others, asking questions all the way.

"You're back! But where is Bastila? Is she alive? What happened inside that Temple?"

Aithne frowned. "First of all, yes, Bastila was inside the Temple," she said. "How in the galaxy did you know?"

Carth waved her question aside. "I had a feeling she would be. Well?"

Aithne sighed. Carth's instinct had been unfailingly reliable this entire journey. She vowed to herself to never, ever take anything he said for granted. She thrust her dirty hands into her pockets and strode to the center of the group. She looked around at the waiting crew. "Bastila has fallen to the Dark Side," she announced. "Juhani, Jolee, and I had an altercation with her at the Temple Summit. She ended up fleeing to the Star Forge."

Evidently Carth's 'feeling' had only prepared him for so much. He recoiled in shock and anger, but he looked worried, too. "The Dark Side?" he cried. "No! How could that happen?"

Jolee answered. "She was always in danger of being seduced by the Dark Side, Carth. Bastila was strong, but she was always impatient and headstrong. Malak preyed upon her weaknesses. This planet is a tainted place." His tone was reasonable, thoughtful. "The Star Forge and the Temple have twisted the Force into an instrument of evil- just as Malak has twisted Bastila into a servant of the Sith."

Mission winced. Aithne caught her fear and regret. She went up to the teenager and gripped her shoulder reassuringly, trying to take some of the girl's grief onto herself. She turned back to face everyone. "She fell with my help," she said quietly.

Jolee shook his head. "In the end we all choose our own path," he said, "But keep in mind the role that you played in her downfall. You and the task assigned to her by the Jedi Council. Remember the bond that was forged between you when she rekindled the spark that was your life. Through that bond she touched your memories and also the echo of the dark taint within you."

Aithne grimaced. Well. She hadn't expected that Jolee would let her off the hook entirely. She would have been disappointed in him if he had.

Carth spoke up in her defense, in Bastila's defense. "But there's still hope for her, right?" He turned to Aithne. "I mean, you rejected the Dark Side, so Bastila could too, right? We might still be able to save her."

Mission turned to look at Aithne hopefully. Aithne squared her shoulders. "We can try," she said. "And I promise that we will. I'm not quite done with Bastila."

Juhani tilted her head for a moment, then spoke. "I don't know what fate awaits us, but I sense Bastila still has a role to play in the events to come. I have no doubt she will be waiting for us on the Star Forge."

Jolee nodded grimly. "No doubt." He was silent for a moment. Then his face seemed to clear, and he smiled at Aithne. "I must say, it's good to have you with us, my dear. For a moment there I thought you might decide…" he shook his head, deciding it didn't need to be said. "Well, never mind what I thought."

Carth picked up on the unsaid words. His gaze hadn't left Aithne from the moment she'd come into view. Now it intensified. "Decide?" he repeated. "Decide what?"

Juhani spoke up softly. "Bastila tried to tempt her to the Dark Side. To reclaim Revan's heritage. She failed."

Carth's gaze fired. A tension charged the air, and Aithne took a step away from Mission and towards Carth in response to the pull of it. "So you did it?" he asked. "You turned against Revan once and for all?"

Aithne nodded apprehensively. And then Carth's arms were on her waist and she was lifted off of her feet into the air, and all she could see in the blur of beach was a grin a galaxy wide on his face. "I knew it! I knew she wasn't a part of you anymore!" he cried in exuberance.

Aithne laughed in delight. "Put me down!" she ordered. Carth complied, but his hands stayed on her waist and the stupid smile stayed on his face. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Anything could still happen."

"No," Carth contradicted firmly. "I told you that you would have to make a choice eventually- that you would be tested. I think that was it. I…I can feel it."

Well. And Aithne had just promised herself to never, ever take Carth's instinct for granted. She grinned. The delight she had felt upon the discovery of her identity and allegiance at the Temple Summit came back stronger than ever, along with a peace and an undeniable sense of wellbeing that she couldn't remember ever feeling before. Carth continued.

"You did exactly what I hoped you would. It couldn't have been easy." His voice deepened, and he leaned forward, touching his forehead to Aithne's. "I'm…I'm very proud of you."

Aithne laughed. "I had good reason not to turn, Carth. She offered me the galaxy, but I didn't want it. I figured I had too much to lose." She gazed at him. "I will never go back there," she promised him.

"I know," Carth said. "I can't blame Bastila for being turned, however. She's just so young. She doesn't deserve her fate. But I know you'll save her." He drew back a few inches and brought his hand up to grip Aithne's chin. "Aithne…I love you. No 'could' or 'maybe' about it. And…and I can't wait until all this is over with."

Aithne arched an eyebrow. "You'll have to tell me about that 'when this is over' bit," she said. Carth grinned, and Aithne's pulse quickened. Then she laughed. "Carth Onasi, I've loved you since halfway through Dantooine."

The beach had devolved to background noise a few seconds earlier. When Carth kissed her, it ceased to exist. This time around, there was no hesitation, no guilt. Aithne returned his kiss passionately, twining her arms around his neck and trying for all she was worth just to melt into him until the galaxy couldn't tell where he started and she began.

She was called back to order when Canderous cleared his throat rather pointedly. She blinked, a little disoriented to find herself back on the beach, and broke apart from Carth, feeling only somewhat self-conscious. She couldn't stop grinning. She was sure she looked about as stupid as he did, but as humiliating as that was, she couldn't quite bring herself to care.

And Mission was saying, hands on her hips, as impudently as she could possibly manage, "Hey! Sheesh, get a room, will ya?"

Carth laughed, and Aithne felt it rumble through his chest. Zaalbar chuckled too, and spoke to his best friend reprovingly.

/That two spirits have found each other amidst all this turmoil is a good omen, Mission. Does it not please you to see?/

Aithne laughed. "Yeah, Mish. Carth and I are a good omen. Aren't you pleased?"

Mission smiled, her gray eyes unexpectedly earnest. "You _know_ I am. Aithne, Carth? I'm happy for you." She smirked then. "But you still need to get yourself a room before you go all gross on us, good omen or not!"

Jolee smiled too, a bit sadly. "Well, I'm an old man and I know you should take love when you can find it. I won't even say 'I told you so'."

"Good of you," Carth told him, stepping away from Aithne, but keeping an arm around her waist.

Juhani was the only one that looked a little awkward. She shifted her weight from her left foot to her right foot. She looked a little hurt, but Aithne was glad to see that she also looked amused, and even a little happy for them. "Confidence is all well and good, Carth," she said. "But if we are going to catch up to Bastila we should leave soon, don't you think?"

Aithne frowned at the reminder of the danger, but Carth nodded. "You're right. Let's get moving."

The crew began to file into the _Hawk_. Aithne turned to Carth. "Um? The stabilizers?"

Carth blinked. "Oh," he said, reddening. "um…Teethree started on them yesterday. This morning I had them almost fixed, but I…uh…I was worried about you."

Aithne rolled her eyes. "Thank you very much. You see I'm fine. Now go fix those stabilizers! Hurry!"

Carth smiled. "Yes, ma'am," he said, saluting comically. Aithne restrained her goofy smile until after he'd disappeared into the engine room. He was adorable off-balance. She filed it away for future reference.

She went to go find Canderous. She found him sitting up in a turret, as if he could already imagine firing it. "Hey," she said.

"Yeah?" was the monosyllabic response.

"You're the only person I didn't hear from after the Temple," she said quietly. "What are you thinking?"

Canderous shrugged. "About you and Carth? About damn time. Don't see what else I'm supposed to say."

"Actually, I was wondering more what you had to say about the battle. And…other stuff."

Canderous smiled lazily. "This is going to be one hell of a fight," he said. "One I can tell other nosy Jedi about in the future," he added. He chuckled. "I'll tell 'em I fought alongside the greatest warrior the clans have ever seen. It's been my honor, Aithne."

"What are you planning to do after the battle? I mean…if there is an 'after the battle'."

Canderous grunted. "I don't know. I'm not happy with the way my life has turned. I'm not the Mandalore I once was." He looked at her meaningfully. "I don't even think I'm the merc I as when I joined you. I think…I think I need something more than killing and fighting in my life after this. I need a purpose or something like that." He shrugged, half-ashamed of the notion.

"Like what?" Aithne asked. She was intrigued. A Mandalorian figuring that there was more to life than killing and fighting was veritably unheard of.

Canderous looked away, out across the beach, up into the sky. "The way the Mandalorians-we-fought…it holds no appeal for me. To rape and ravage worlds for the thrill of battle…it gets old. Very old. Honor in battle," he mused. "Cheating death. Comrades in arms. The Code of the Mandalore. I think I'm something different now. Maybe more, maybe less."

Aithne nodded contemplatively. She crossed her arms. "So? What are you planning on doing about it?"

Canderous turned his chair to look at her in response to the challenge in her voice. "I don't really think there is any place left in the galaxy for the clans as they were," he said decisively. "I don't know if I can go on forever fighting as I have done. Even warriors get insightful in their old age. Once my time with you is done- if we live through this battle- once you have moved on, I'll find my own way again. Maybe the Mandalorian clans will be reborn once again." He snorted. "Maybe even under the Republic. Or the Sith."

Aithne frowned suddenly. To unite the Mandalorian clans…she caught her breath, suddenly possessed of an idea. She bit her lip and made a mental note to visit the Jedi Archives on Coruscant, if she lived, and dig up some of her own history.

Canderous shook his head. "Dreaming about the future right now is stupid, though. Has Carth fixed the stabilizers yet? We need to finish our business on the Star Forge. If we survive all this…maybe we could talk about it then."

Aithne caught his gaze. "Maybe so," she said firmly. "I might have an idea." Canderous' gaze sharpened, but Aithne shook her head. "Later," she promised. "I'll go check on the stabilizers."

Snapping with energy, Aithne jumped down from the turret ladder and strode back to the engine room. Carth was hunched over the hyperdrive, fiddling with it like a master musician playing his instrument. Aithne stopped in the doorway, smiling at the sight.

"How's it looking?" she asked. "There is a war on, you know."

Carth looked up at her. He focused on her face, and frowned. "Yeah, and Bastila's still up there," he agreed grimly. "But at any rate, it's looking good."

He turned back to the hyperdrive, making one last adjustment. "That should about do it," he announced. "I'll get us up in the air. The first of the Republic Fleet should almost be here."

They spent three days hiding on the dark side of the Rakatan world. Aithne could feel the Republic assembling on the other side of hyperspace, ready to break out. The tension and quiet built up until one morning Aithne awoke and knew it was the day of the battle. She went to the cockpit. Carth was sitting there staring at the Sith Fleet buzzing around the mammoth space factory. His hands were tight. His face was lined. Aithne gripped his shoulder.

"It'll happen today," he said quietly.

"I know," she said. "I think we're going to be on the Star Forge at some point."

Carth nodded thoughtfully.

Aithne closed her eyes. "The others better get ready to fight," she said. "I'll tell them to arm up. I could do some modifications on my lightsabers myself…"

Carth's lips tightened. "You've been tinkering with them for days, Aithne. We still have to wait for orders from the Fleet."

Aithne squeezed his shoulder. "Do I ever do anything else?"

Carth looked up at her. "Yes. Frequently." His voice was flat. Aithne scowled.

"Well this time I won't." She pressed the button for the com. "All crew arm up! Battle's coming and I have a feeling we'll be doing more than manning turrets!"

Just then hundreds of ships materialized, coming out of the hyperspace tunnel. Enormous Republic carrier vessels like the _Endar Spire_. Darting fighters, larger warships of various sizes and makes. Everything Aithne imagined the Republic had left.

"The Republic!" Carth cried jubilantly. A bright red light flashed on the dash, and Carth flipped the switch for the _Ebon Hawk_ to stay positioned. "C'mon," he said to Aithne, moving towards the living area and the holo-interface. "We're getting a transmission."

Aithne hung back as a nasty thought struck her all at once. "Carth," she said. "I'm…I'm not sure how classified my being alive is. I mean, _you _didn't know. I'm sort of a criminal. Or…I was…" She brought a hand to her head. Thinking about her legal status was dizzying.

Carth paused. "I didn't think of that," he admitted, thinking quickly. "We won't bring your name into it," he said finally. "And you stay in the shadows. Not that many people would know your face anyways, seeing as how you always wore that Mandalorian mask. If we all get through this, we'll sort it out."

Aithne nodded. But she still felt more than a little apprehensive. She could see the wanted posters now. _Revan. Alias: Aithne Morrigan. Wanted for numerous crimes against the Republic. Presume armed. Highly dangerous. _

Carth led them to the main hold and punched the interface button. A tall, impressive-looking woman in an admiral's uniform rose from the holo-interface. Mission and Juhani watched intently from a nearby bench.

"This is Admiral Forn Dadonna to the _Ebon Hawk_," she said by way of an introduction. "Do you read us?"

Carth stepped up to the interface. Aithne knew the technology was transmitting his image to a similar interface aboard the admiral's vessel. "Admiral Dadonna," he said clearly. "This is Carth Onasi. We are receiving your transmission."

The admiral smiled. "Carth," she said, informally enough that Aithne concluded that she and Carth had worked together in the past. "It's good to see you're still alive, what with traveling around with Jedi and all." She seemed to press a button. A screen came up on the interface that showed the placement of the Sith and Republic Fleets. The Sith Fleet had magically formed lines and was returning Republic fire with gusto. The screen disappeared, and Admiral Dadonna came back up, frowning. "We've begun our assault on the Star Forge, but we're taking heavy losses. How did the Sith ever manage to build something of this scope?"

Carth shook his head. "The Star Forge wasn't constructed by the Sith, Admiral," he contradicted. "We don't have time for me to fully explain it, but that space station is far older than you can possibly imagine." His eyes darted to Aithne. Aithne kept her back against the wall of the hold. She looked away from the interface so that her hair hid her profile.

The Admiral's brow wrinkled in worry. "Maybe we should pull the Fleet back and retreat," she said. "I don't know if we have the firepower to go up against this alien technology."

Carth's jaw tightened. "You can't do that, Admiral. The Star Forge is a factory of immense power," he reported. Aithne had shared the information with him right after they'd gotten the _Hawk _up. "It's been churning out the capital ships, snub fighters, and assault droids that have powered the Sith war effort. You have to destroy the Star Forge now or you'll be fighting an unending wave of reinforcements."

The Admiral's eyes hardened. "Then I guess we have no choice. But it isn't going to be easy." She looked at something a ways off. Aithne supposed it was the battle readouts. "I can't even get our capital ships into position to start bombarding the Star Forge. The Sith Fleet is too well organized. It's like they can guess our every move and counter our every strategy."

Aithne felt a wave of guilt wash over her. Carth, too, looked a bit nervous. "…It's Bastila, Admiral," he confessed. "She turned to the Dark Side and became Malak's apprentice. We suspect she's somewhere on that space station now, using her Battle Meditation against you and your Fleet."

Admiral Dadonna left the holo-interface, but it continued to run. For at least three minutes, Carth just stood there.

"Um…is it over, then?" Aithne asked.

"No, just wait," Carth said. Sure enough, Admiral Dadonna reappeared, and this time, a small green alien was alongside her. Aithne bit back a greeting. Vandar knew who she was, sure. He might even know by now that _she_ knew who she was. But Master Vandar's knowledge of her true identity did not necessitate the Republic's knowledge of it, and she wasn't sure who would ultimately have jurisdiction over her fate should she survive this battle.

Still, Aithne smiled a little. Even if Vandar and the rest of the Council had been manipulative, secretive pigs, it was nice to know that her idiotic ex-apprentice hadn't managed to blow them all up. She wondered wistfully whether Zhar and Dorak had survived, too. She couldn't quite bring herself to care about Vrook.

But Admiral Dadonna was talking. Aithne forced herself to pay attention. "A number of Jedi Knights have joined our Fleet under his command," she was explaining.

Vandar looked grave. "If Bastila is using her power to augment the Sith then Malak's Fleet is invincible," he said baldly. "Our only hope is to somehow stop Bastila from using her Battle Meditation."

Admiral Dadonna squared her shoulders. "How can we do that if she's on the space station?" she asked. Not despairingly, but like she was thinking about how she could make it happen. Aithne found herself liking the woman.

Vandar tapped his leg with a claw thoughtfully. "I will send a squadron of Jedi Knights to the Star Forge to find Bastila," he announced. "Their small ships will be able to fly through the Sith blockade and dock on the space station. If they can find Bastila, they may be able to distract her attention from the battle overhead. That should allow you to move your capital ships into position for a final assault on the Star Forge itself."

Admiral Dadonna nodded decisively, turning to Carth. "I hate to ask you this after all you've done, Carth," she began, genuine regret in her eyes, "but the Jedi may need all the help they can get."

Carth glanced at Aithne. She nodded. "Don't worry, Admiral," he said. "The _Ebon Hawk_ and her crew are going to see this through to the end!"

Suddenly the Admiral frowned. "Have you taken over command of the vessel, Carth? I had thought Bastila was in charge of your crew, but if she has turned to the Dark Side…"

Carth looked nervous. Master Vandar looked up sharply at Admiral Dadonna. "If all goes well, you shall know all," he said, with a glance at the corner where Aithne lurked. "If it doesn't…" he trailed off, with a last look at Carth. "May the Force be with you."

The hologram blinked out, and the crew was alone in the _Hawk_ once more.

Aithne stepped up at once. "Alright," she called loudly. "Everyone in here now! We only have about five minutes."

Teethree, Aytchkay, Jolee, Canderous, and Zaalbar filed in from different doors. Aithne looked at them all. "The waiting's over," she said quietly. "We've been ordered in. Carth, in a minute you'll have to try to land us on the Star Forge. Canderous? I'll help you man the turrets."

"When we land on the Star Forge," Aithne continued. "We have three objectives. In descending order of importance they are to find Bastila and stop her from using her Battle Meditation, stay alive, and keep the Ebon Hawk safe for our getaway."

She looked around at the faces she'd spent nearly a year with. Canderous' expression was grim, but she could tell he was taut with suppressed excitement. Jolee looked a little sad. Juhani's eyes were alight with battle-lust. Aytchkay was polishing his gun. Teethree whirred and beeped encouragingly at Mission. The teenager looked scared, and a little sick. Zaalbar stood tall and unflinching. Carth looked determined. This battle was just a particularly unpleasant task for him; he would complete it without complaint. Aithne sighed.

"I'm not gonna sugarcoat it," she said. "There'll be hundreds of Sith in there, if we even manage to land. Odds are _very_ against us. I want a guard of six on the _Hawk_. I'll take two and try to get to Bastila."

"What's the breakdown?" Carth asked. His jaw twitched.

Aithne looked over the crew, considering. "Canderous?" she said.

The Mandalorian nodded. Aithne addressed him. "You've experience with command, and I trust you. You're in charge of the _Ebon Hawk_ defense. Once the Sith realize we're aboard the space station, their priority will be to stop us from leaving and kill us all. So, you protect the ship and keep everyone safe as best you can."

She turned to her psycho assassin droid. "Aytchkay? I want you to take your orders from him. And you have my permission to wantonly slaughter any Sith that gets even remotely close to the ship."

Aytchkay's eyes glowed. "Affirmation: With distinct pleasure, master."

Aithne turned to Juhani. "Juhani? You, too. You're in charge of protecting the group from any Dark Jedi that show, okay?"

Juhani's eyes flared as she realized she was to be left behind to guard the ship, and under Canderous' command, but she nodded. "Understood."

/Zaalbar,/ Aithne said, nervous for the first time. /I want you to stay behind with Mission./

/I am to protect you,/ he protested with a loud roar.

"Hey!" Mission yelled.

Aithne glared at them both. /How would we feel if she died?/ she asked Zaalbar. /She is like a cub to you, I know, or a sister. You know I consider her my kinswoman as well. If we survive this battle, you are to be freed of your life debt. You may return to Kashyyyk. And where does that leave her?/

Zaalbar was silent. Aithne turned to Mission. "Mish, this isn't any playground, okay? Defense of the _Ebon Hawk_ is a big job." She went to the teenager and grabbed her shoulders. "I know you'll fight well and bravely, but I want you to stay as safe as you possibly can. If we both live through this…well, never mind about that. We'll talk about it when the battle's done."

Mission for once didn't say a word. Instead, she wrapped her arms tightly around Aithne. Aithne hugged her back. When Mission released her, she turned back to Zaalbar. /Well?/ Zaalbar placed a paw on Mission's shoulder.

/It will be as you say,/ he consented.

Aithne turned to address the little astromech. "Teethree?" she said, "I want you to help Canderous and the others out, too. You can pull out those battle upgrades Mission outfitted you with the other day."

T3-M4 chirped bravely, rolling over to stand beside Canderous. Aithne grinned at him.

Aithne turned to Carth and Jolee, hands extended. "If you've no objections," she said quietly, "I'd like to have you two with me."

Carth smiled at her in relief. Jolee glared at her. "Lass, if you thought I was going to miss something like this…Well! I'm not that old!"

Carth nodded in agreement. "With you all the way," he confirmed. "I wouldn't miss it."

Mission rushed forward to hug Carth and Jolee quickly, too. When all was quiet again Aithne addressed the entire crew. "Alright. I love you all. It has been a ride to remember. Survive if you can, but if not? This is a great way to go out! Carth?"

"Aithne?"

"Take us in!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Alright! On to the grand finale! Next up we have the bulk of the Star Forge battle, and Aithne's confrontation with Bastila. Malak- he deserves his own chapter, idiot though he be. I hope you people are still enjoying this! Leave a review on your way out!**

**May the Force Be With You,**

**LMSharp**


	43. Into the Fray

**Disclaimer: KotOR was not my idea. Writing on it was, but I'm not getting paid for it.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Forty-Three<p>

Twenty harrowing minutes of bucking ships, dodging Sith, and full on barrel-rolls later, Carth landed the _Ebon Hawk_ on the ancient Rakatan space station. The docking bay doors shut behind them like a sarcophagus lid. Aithne climbed down from her turret as Carth strode up from the cockpit. She kissed him on the cheek.

"Well done," she whispered.

She clapped Canderous on the shoulder as he climbed down from his turret. "Good work."

The entire crew was assembled in the hallway waiting for the ramp to descend. Aithne grinned, realizing they all looked slightly green. Still, they weren't dead yet. She shook her entire body and ignited her lightsabers. "You guys ready for this?"

"No," Mission said baldly. "But let's do it, anyway!"

Canderous pressed the button and the ramp descended. Aithne, Carth, and Jolee led the way. A woman whirled to face them, and a lightsaber ignited. But her blade shone blue, not red. The woman was short and solidly built, maybe thirty-five. She smiled in relief.

"You made it!" she cried, as four or five of her companions circled around. "Several Jedi have already gone ahead into the Star Forge," she explained. "We have to strike while we still have the element of surprise. If we don't stop Bastila from using her Battle Meditation the entire Republic Fleet will be wiped out!"

"Battle Meditation is annoying like that," Aithne agreed off-handedly, turning to make sure Carth and Jolee were behind her as the rest of the crew took up their positions around the _Hawk_. The Jedi Guardian looked offended.

"Come on, then," she said, failing to notice Aithne was moving towards the door across the chamber already, "before they…"

The door opened. Five brawny Dark Jedi men strode forth grimly from the bright opening.

The Jedi woman swore, glancing nervously at Aithne. "So much for catching them unprepared," she said, readjusting her plan. "We'll deal with these Sith," she promised. "You get into the Star Forge and find Bastila! Hurry!"

Aithne bit her lip, and turned to holler back, "Canderous, Aytchkay, Juhani, Teethree, Zaalbar, Mission! Give 'em hell! See you on the other side!"

She nodded curtly at the Jedi woman, and, shaking her head and dodging a Sith saber, plunged forward into the Star Forge.

Aithne led the way, sensing their path with her vaguely throbbing link with Bastila, and her own mostly buried memories. She guided Carth and Jolee through the labyrinthine metal corridors.

"They're going to try to get in our way, slow us down," she said to Carth and Jolee. "We can't play their game. Every minute they delay us is a minute Bastila's using her Battle Meditation to decimate the Fleet."

"So we go for incapacitation," Carth agreed. "Knock 'em down, stun 'em, make sure they can't follow us, but don't kill every Sith that steps in front of the barrel."

"Exactly," Aithne said. "The Republic Fleet is in charge of killing Sith. It's our job to make sure they can."

They turned to pass through the next door. So far, their progress had been relatively easy. But now, the door exploded.

"Malak knows we're here," Aithne cried, throwing up a Force Shield in front of the party. Two giant, red, battle droids looked down at them through yellow eyes.

Jolee blinked. He unleashed a wave of the Force specifically targeting the droids. Aithne followed it up, and the droids fell in useless heaps. "For someone that knows we're here, he's not putting up much of a fight," he muttered.

"Shut up and don't jinx it," Aithne said, beginning to jog again. "Of course he doesn't know _we're_ here, not like that. My guess is that the Jedi on the inside have alerted him to the presence of intruders. Once he realizes we're here, too, though, it'll get a lot hotter."

"You mean when he hears that _you're_ here," Carth corrected. "Jolee and I aren't on his radar."

Aithne shook her head, sighting more armored droids ahead. "Jolee's not. He's been in the Shadowlands a couple of decades. He's so old he's news. But you're on Malak's radar, flyboy."

Carth let loose with an ionic blaster. Aithne sent another stream of the Force through the droids facing them without breaking the stream of conversation. Jolee deflected some of their fire without even slacking his pace.

"You've been on every Sith wanted poster I've seen on the assassins he's been sending out." She snorted. "He was even sending the posters out with new recruits, like Dustil. My guess is Karath talked you up a bit. Malak knows your name, Carth. Sure, he doesn't care about you near as much as Bastila. Or even me, messed up as I am. But he cares enough to order you dead personally, if it makes you feel any better."

"My ego is much obliged," Carth said ironically. He punched the button to pass through the next door. A steep ramp greeted them, and they saw a narrow bridge at the bottom. On it, six lightsabers flashed, blue and yellow on red.

"We're almost to the main level," Aithne said, though she didn't know quite how she knew it. "We'll have to cross it to get to the command one. That'll be where Bastila is. And Malak."

She broke into a run, picking up speed as she raced down the ramp to the aid of the three Jedi fighting Sith on the bridge. Even as she watched, however, a tall Sith woman kicked out and sent a Jedi man hurtling off the bridge into the bowels of the Star Forge below. Aithne felt the life leave his body, a light extinguished in the swirling blackness that surrounded her. Another man, a Jedi Sentinel, used the brief distraction to slay another of the Sith, before he himself was slain by a felled Guardian's now freed opponent. Aithne ignited her own double sabers, angry. She had just now reached the bridge to aid Jedi she had hoped might help her penetrate the inner recesses of the space station, only to see them killed before her eyes.

The Sith woman with brutal eyes looked at Aithne. "Ah, more victims for us to slaughter," she purred.

Anger flooded Aithne. She felt herself slip, and the darkness jumped at her. With a gasp, she shoved it aside, harnessing her anger, calling it to order. Calming, she regrouped, and with Carth at her back, she attacked.

"Can't lose control of yourself for a minute here," she called to Jolee, fighting the man.

"No, the Dark Side is too strong," he agreed, dealing a blow to the Sith man's shoulder.

Aithne shook her hair back, bringing her left saber around. The woman gasped as Aithne's face, previously obscured by shadows and the curls escaping her braid, was revealed.

"Revan…?" she gasped.

Jolee felled her companion. Aithne grimaced. "If you're so impressed, you might surrender and let us by. Seriously, feel free."

The woman slipped in her block of a downswing of Aithne's, but she turned and made a break for a door on the left side of the bridge.

"Shoot her," Aithne ordered coldly. "She'll tell Malak we're here."

Carth aimed, but, as if sensing the order, the woman put on a burst of Force Speed. Carth's blaster bolt missed her vitals and hit her calf. The Sith stumbled, crying aloud, but kept running.

Aithne turned to Jolee and Carth. "C'mon," she said. "We need to run. We're headed the opposite way, and if I'm not mistaken, the route just got a lot harder."

There were another two battle droids guarding the passage to the main level. Carth took out one, and Jolee the other with no more trouble than they'd taken out all the others. But as they passed into the main level, Aithne's fears were confirmed. Several Sith ran at them, both Jedi and regular troops. Aithne shielded. "Remember!" she cried to the others. "Speed's the thing!"

Still, the next half hour Aithne felt like she was wading through setting concrete, so thick were the waves of troops Malak sent to meet them. The Dark energy of the Star Forge, too, worked against her, leeching her own energies. Aithne's muscles began to ache. The nice robes Aithne had found on Korriban were stained beyond repair.

Still they kept moving. Carth, in particular, was very useful. He stunned opponents with expert shots and aptly thrown grenades alike. The best Jolee and Aithne could do was to cut off limbs or put opponents into a Stasis until they passed on, and that was nearly as taxing in of itself as it would be to kill the legions that got into their path.

They made progress, though. They fought their way through the decks, sweating and covered in blood. They were bone tired.

"I wonder…how the others are doing," Aithne gasped as they hid in a room just down the hall from the elevator that would take them to the command level, where Bastila waited. And Malak.

Carth leaned out the doorway and shot a lone grenadier. "We can't worry about them," he panted. "We have to stay alive ourselves right now, and get to Bastila." Jolee slumped against a wall. His shoulder leaked blood from a blaster bolt graze he'd suffered earlier.

Aithne's eyebrows met worriedly, and she knelt beside the old ex-Jedi. She nodded at Carth. "Close the door a moment . We have to catch our breaths or we're no more than bantha fodder out there." Carth did so, and Aithne turned to Jolee. "Here. Let me take a look at that."

"What? This?" Jolee said. "I've had worse in my day. I can keep going."

Aithne shook her head. "I'm sure you can," she said softly. "I'd still like to do something, if I may."

Gently, she rolled back the Jedi's sleeve, and examined the wound. Fortunately, it was shallow and clean, but it was also long, and bleeding freely. Aithne felt deep inside for the replenishing Force returning to her. She imagined the skin closing over the gash in Jolee's shoulder, and the sting leaving the wound.

A scab grew over Jolee's dark, wrinkled skin. Aithne stopped there. The bleeding had ceased, and she could not waste energy healing the old man completely. "Is that better?"

Jolee flexed his arm. "A bit," he said. "Thanks, lass."

"I'd do more, but…"

Jolee nodded. "I understand. You have to save your strength."

Carth was examining the console on the other side of the room. "Aithne," he called. "Come check this out."

Aithne walked over, feeling the strength return to her muscles. "What is it?" she asked.

Carth brought up the functions of the computer. "It's like nothing I've ever seen before," he said. "It's supposed to make clothing…just generate it, from thin air."

"Not quite," Aithne said, feeling the computer and the Star Forge. "It's tapping into the Dark energy of war, and using it to generate armor. Hmmm…"

"What?" Carth asked.

"There's a robe function. Custom made."

"_Star Forge_ robes?" Jolee said skeptically. "Wouldn't they be too affiliated to the Dark Side to be of any use to you?"

Aithne was examining the software. "No," she responded. "This particular function would take its cue from the Jedi commissioning the robes. The Star Forge would tap into my energy signature to make the robes, and the resulting garment would amplify and protect me and my own Force affinity."

"You going to try it?" Carth asked.

Aithne probed the wall in her mind, feeling for Bastila. She knit her brow, surprised.

"She's…she's stopped using her Battle Meditation," she reported. She probed the wall further, and caught an echo of Bastila's purpose. "Oh. She's waiting for us. I sense a lot of hostility…" she smiled a bit sadly. "It's worse than the time I kept insisting that I'd saved her at the swoop track."

Carth's mouth quirked, but his eyes were sad, too.

"So you can afford to take your time," Jolee said.

Carth shook his head. "Not exactly. The battle's still going on, and soldiers are still dying on both sides. It's just not quite as urgent now."

"I'm going to try the robes on," Aithne said decisively, looking down at her own blood-stained tattered ones with blaster bolt riddled sleeves. "By the Force, they can't be worse than these."

She keyed in the sequence, placing her hand on the pad so the Star Forge could read her systems. A bright light flashed in the corner, and a white barrel appeared.

Aithne walked over to the barrel apprehensively. She opened it and placed her hand inside. She felt the fabric. "Oh," she sighed, and drew out the garments within.

They were beautiful. They were the most beautiful robes she'd ever seen, if they could even be called 'robes'. The garments consisted of a hooded, long-sleeved tunic, cut long and slim, and long, full pants of the same soft, strong, light gray material. Aithne had never particularly cared for the dress-type robes some Jedi Masters wore, or the tied brown tunics and leggings that were standard for Padawans and Knights. In these clothes, both her modesty and free movement would be preserved.

She withdrew from the stack a white vest of a leathery material that looked to lace over the shirt, protecting the wearer against vibroblades and blaster bolts, it seemed. Aithne smiled.

"Turn around," she ordered the two men imperiously.

Jolee rolled his eyes. Carth smiled, bowing chivalrously. Both men obligingly turned their backs.

Aithne skinned out of the dirty, torn, robes she wore delightedly, following suit with her brown leggings. She pulled on the pants and shirt, closing her eyes in pleasure at the feel of the cool fabric against her weary skin. She tucked the pants into her black boots, and laced the white vest over everything quickly, and finally strapped her weapons belt on again.

All at once, the oppressive Force of the Dark Side retreated, not completely, but to a manageable distance. Aithne herself felt much stronger. She stretched, and smiled in relief.

"Alright," she said to Jolee and Carth. "I'm ready."

"You're quick," Jolee remarked, turning. Carth turned as well, and both men checked.

"Beautiful," was Carth's only comment. Aithne grinned at him.

"The robes look like you," Jolee added. "I think the gray tint of them reflects your alignment in the Force."

"Maybe," Aithne said. "I'll let you dissect the properties of my new clothes later. But I feel a whole lot better. What do you say we finish this?"

Carth smiled crookedly. "Can't do it soon enough for me," he said, his words full of an undercurrent that made Aithne shiver in pleasure.

They left the room. Surprisingly, few troops awaited on the way to the elevator.

"They're slacking off," Aithne commented as they rode the elevator to the command level. "And Bastila's close."

"What of Malak?" Jolee asked.

Aithne shuddered. "He's close, too," she said in a flat voice.

The elevator stopped with a ding, and Aithne and her companions left it only to find themselves face to face with five Sith.

Aithne let loose with a Force Wave to push them back and stun them momentarily, and Carth followed it up with three stun shots straight to the chests of the three regular soldiers. Jolee was waiting for the Dark Jedi when they sprang up. He brought the hilt of his lightsaber down hard on one's head, and the man went down with a grunt, unconscious. Aithne laughed, impressed.

"Nice one," she praised Jolee, driving a saber through the last one's chest to finish with. The three of them jogged on.

They turned the corner and ascended a ramp, and Aithne froze, eyeing a door. "That's it," she said. "Bastila's through there."

Carth nodded. "Great," he said. "We have to go through them, first." He pointed to the five robed Sith guarding the entrance.

Aithne sighed, shielding again. A ripple of the Force went over her. It was Jolee, lending them all courage and strength. Aithne adjusted her grip on her lightsabers, and led the party forward.

The Sith tried to incapacitate Carth first. Aithne felt the tremble in the Force, reached out, and shoved their attack aside. Carth shot a volley into the mess of guards. Most of his shots were deflected, but one hit a Dark Jedi apprentice in the side. He cried out, and Jolee sent Force Lightning through his body. The unfortunate Sith fell. He wouldn't be getting back up again, Aithne knew.

Two Sith sprang upon Jolee, anger written across their features. The other two split up, taking on Carth and Aithne separately. Aithne felt with the Force, and summoned a vibroblade from Carth's pack. She tossed it to him. He caught it deftly, and turned to face the Sith, moving so he was back to back with Aithne.

Aithne pulled with the Force using techniques Jolee had taught her, turning the Dark Side on her Sith opponent, draining his energy. Jolee, to her left, was unleashing a Lightning Storm on the Sith attacking him, cutting down one in the confusion.

Aithne and Carth fought, coordinating their movements in the effortless teamwork they'd always shown. They stayed calm as their opponents only grew angrier and more desperate. A thought occurred to Aithne just then. She smiled and tapped Carth's wrist behind her. He tapped back. The Sith lunged, and both of them dodged right. The Sith were impaled upon one another's sabers. Carth replaced his vibroblade in his pack carefully. He drew his blaster and aimed. He hit the last Dark Jedi in the head, and the Sith fell at Jolee's feet.

Aithne grimaced. She took a deep breath. When she had opened the door the Sith had been guarding, a small corridor was revealed. Another door stood at the end. Aithne strode forward and opened it as well.

Raw energy surged past her to encase Jolee and Carth in Stasis. Aithne darted forward, and the door started to close behind her. Just in time, Aithne used her own power to close the door at the opposite end of the corridor, locking it with the Force. Carth and Jolee were helpless. Now no enemies could get to them while she faced off with Bastila.

For there she stood, garbed in black. The room they were in was large, airy. It actually reminded Aithne of some of the rooms back at the Jedi Enclave on Dantooine. In the center, a large hologram was displaying the Star Forge and the ongoing battle.

"I would prefer that we have no interference from your lover and doddering old 'Teacher', if you do not mind," Bastila said coldly.

Aithne activated her sabers, wary. "Actually, Bas, I do mind, a little."

Bastila smiled, showing her teeth. "I knew you'd come for me, Revan." Her red double saber was held casually in her right hand. She was ignoring it, for the time being.

Aithne rolled her eyes. "Of course I was going to come. You ran before we'd finished talking. I don't give up that easily, Bastila."

Bastila's face twisted. "You are wasting your time," she informed Aithne. "I have seen the Jedi for what they truly are: weak and afraid. The Sith are the true masters of the Force. You have forgotten that lesson, Revan. Now you must pay the price. Here on the Star Forge the power of the Dark Side is at its strongest. This time you will not defeat me!"

She brought up her saber with all the quickness of her Jedi reflexes. But Aithne was ready for her. She knocked Bastila's stroke aside, and shoved out with the Force. But Bastila caught her attack, shoving back. Aithne's eyebrows rose. Bastila hadn't been kidding that the Star Forge made her stronger. Normally the strength of Aithne's Push would have knocked her back. Aithne stepped aside, attacking with her sabers, seeking to disarm.

Bastila was well-trained. She had not been fighting legions of Sith without adequate rest or water. But in a lightsaber fight, she was neither as quick nor as strong as Aithne. Here Aithne's superior height served her well. She forced Bastila back, but Malak's apprentice kept her saber despite Aithne's best efforts. Bastila shot a bolt of Lightning at Aithne's chest. Aithne caught the bolt, diverting it to discharge harmlessly in the air.

Bastila chuckled, flicking off her lightsaber. She panted a little. Aithne followed suit, and waited.

"I see now why Malak followed you," Bastila said in admiration. "Even though you are only a shell of your former self, you are still a formidable opponent. I can't even imagine the power you must have wielded when you were the Dark Lord. You were a fool to give it all up and follow…" she paused, looking at Aithne's robes. "But you didn't, did you? Those are Star Forgerobes. Hmm. It seems you stand on the very brink, Revan. You have not sold out to the Light Side, as I suspected. But neither do you embrace the Dark. Cannot you decide? You are a weak fool."

Aithne shook her head. "Bastila, I stand as tall now as I did when I was trying to conquer the galaxy and sat in the heart of the Dark. As I have moved towards the Light Side, I have not become weaker."

Bastila tossed her head. "The Dark Side has made me stronger than I ever was before," she boasted.

"That's your arrogance talking, Bas," Aithne said levelly. "The Dark Side magnifies it."

Bastila scowled. "I have a greater command of the Force than all but the most powerful Jedi Masters," she insisted. "As Malak teaches me the greatest secrets of the Sith, I will unlock more of my potential. Eventually there will be no limit to what I can accomplish with the Force."

Aithne maintained eye contact and spoke clearly. "If you follow the Dark Side you will remain limited," she said. "It only leads to death and destruction." She shrugged. "Lots of fireworks; no real growth." She punched at the mental wall between her and Bastila, trying to make a breakthrough.

Bastila tensed. "Jedi propaganda," she said simply. "The Dark Side is only a tool, and Malak will train me in its use. Eventually I will surpass my Master and challenge him. If I am worthy, he will die by my hand. Then I will take on my own apprentice and the cycle will begin again. This is the way of the Sith. It is how we assure our leaders are always the strongest and most worthy."

Aithne put her hands on her hips. "Listen to yourself!" she pleaded. "You plan on killing your Master! You want to train an apprentice that might kill you! Where does it end, Bastila? All this only sounds like death and destruction to me. Don't consign yourself to an endless cycle of betrayal. It costs too much. It hollows you out until there's nothing left to give. In my dreams, I can remember Revan's apathy and emptiness. I myself have been to Korriban and seen the ultimate destiny of the Dark Side."

Bastila twitched. The mental wall crumbled the tiniest bit, and Aithne sensed an echo of uncertainty across the link. _She's getting it_, Aithne thought. Bastila shook. "No, Revan," she said, answering Aithne's words, and thoughts. "It is you who are doomed!"

She attacked again. Aithne brought her sabers up just in time. She felt the Star Forge shove energy through Bastila, putting strength into her blow. Aithne darted back, circling the younger woman warily. Bastila shoved out at her with the Force. Aithne reached out with her own mind and stopped the attack, taking the mental blow and shoving back. Bastila stumbled back a foot or so. She let loose a Lightning Bolt. Aithne sidestepped neatly.

Bastila came at her with lightsaber again. Aithne's muscles strained to block the blow, but she did so, throwing Bastila back.

Bastila laughed. "You are growing weary," she taunted. "I sense it! Your strength falters. The Light Side is failing you while the power of theStar Forgere-energizes me! Soon this will all be over!"

Aithne spread her arms wide, not denying it. "Then will you strike me down, Bastila? You notice I am making no attempt to harm you."

Bastila's brow furrowed. "Yes," she said, and the chinks in the mental wall widened. A tenuous probe stretched out. "What is your game, Aith…Revan?"

"There you are," Aithne said wearily, gazing into Bastila's ice-blue eyes. "I see you, Bastila. You're not evil, not even now."

Bastila's jaw tensed, even as fear throbbed over the link. "I am a Sith apprentice now," she said stiffly. "You place too much faith in what I used to be…and for that you shall pay!"

The Star Forge surged again, and Aithne's jaw set as she blocked another bone shaking blow from Bastila's saber. Sweat ran down her forehead now. It threatened her eyes with a sting that could cost her life. She was tired, and angry, at this point. The Darkness swam around her, waiting for her to give in. It would be so easy to just give up on Bastila and retaliate out of her own Dark Side. Aithne halfway considered it. The lock on the door keeping the Sith troops out of the hallway where Carth and Jolee stood helpless sapped at her strength. And surely with Bastila dead, the Republic could at least cripple the Sith.

Aithne staggered back and Bastila bore down upon her. But Bastila's eyes were not hostile. On the contrary, Bastila Shan looked trapped and afraid. Something akin to a plea stood out as Aithne met her gaze. Aithne prodded at Bastila's mind and was surprised at what she discovered. _Force, she doesn't _want _to win this fight! _

Aithne threw back her shoulders then. She reached inside of herself and found new strength. She would bring this proud child to her knees, and then she would save her.

Aithne blocked Bastila's stroke and locked blades. She forced Bastila down and back, and then lashed out with the Force. Bastila flew back three feet. Her head was nearly in the holographic battle. Desperately, Bastila sent a volley of Force Lightning towards Aithne. Aithne held out her hands in front of her, caught the energy between them, and sent it flying back at Bastila, adding a jolt of her own. It did not hit Bastila, however. It was not intended for her.

Instead, the Lightning hit the shaft of Bastila's double saber, right between her hands. The resulting shock made Bastila fling the lightsaber away reflexively. Aithne caught it with the Force, deactivated it and flung it away.

She advanced on Bastila, sabers at the ready. Bastila could summon her weapon just as easily as Aithne had flung it away. But she didn't. The mental wall between them was all but demolished. Fear was the younger Jedi's dominant emotion, followed by confusion. Anger raged in a corner of her brain, and in the opposite, a tiny bit of relief lurked.

"This…this is not possible," Bastila said. "You have...you have rejected the Dark Side! You are a weak and pathetic puppet of the Jedi Council! How can you still stand against me? Why can't I defeat you?"

Aithne deactivated her sabers and clipped them to her belt. She placed her hands on her hips and breathed in deeply. "Listen. Bastila. The Dark Side is no stronger than the Light. Before, you spoke of Jedi propaganda. Well, this nonsense about Dark-Siders being stronger is Sith propaganda."

Bastila nodded ruefully, her pride broken at last. "Yes, I see you speak the truth. I am no match for you." She knelt slowly, wincing. "Please, for the sake of what we once shared, do not make me suffer. End my life quickly. There is no other way."

Aithne sat down across from Bastila and glared. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm not going to kill you."

Bastila looked up at her in surprise. "What other choice do you have?" she asked. Aithne smiled. For the first time, it sounded like Bastila talking. _Her _Bastila, not some Sith caricature. "I have fallen to the Dark Side. I am an apprentice to the Dark Lord himself. You cannot let me live."

"Yeah, well, you let the Lord of the Sith herself live, once," Aithne retorted. She laughed. "Honestly, Bastila. So you're a security risk. I'm a bigger one than you are. The Dark Side is a choice. You can repent and reject it, too. Come back to the Light." She grinned, gesturing at Bastila's uniform. "Black's not your color."

"You talk as if I can change my soul like I can change my clothing," Bastila said bitterly, looking away. "Maybe _you_ can. But I…I am not strong enough. There is too much anger inside me now. Too much hatred and fear. I can no longer find peace in the Force."

She made no effort to resist as Aithne probed her mind, though. Aithne bit her lip as she felt the chaotic mess Bastila described. She urged Bastila to examine her own thoughts, and felt the younger woman respond tentatively.

"See, I have anger and fear, too. You just need to…tidy up a little. Hmm. Old habits die hard. Try the Jedi Code. I think it might help you."

Bastila smiled sadly. "Even now, after everything, you try to help me. I doubt mere words can help me get back to you, but to appease you I will recite them."

She closed her eyes. "There is no emotion; there is peace. There is no ignorance; there is knowledge. There is no passion; there is serenity. There is no chaos; there is harmony." As Bastila spoke, Aithne felt the younger woman's mind fall into order. Anger and blackness still ran like a river through it, but Bastila was beginning to bridle it. Bastila opened her eyes, and they were calmer. "Strange, but even now, I find comfort in these words. I suppose you are right about habits. There is no death; there is the Force," she finished. She took Aithne's hand.

"Thank you…Aithne. I am ready to face my fate now." She looked meaningfully down at Aithne's sabers.

Aithne shook her head. "Look, even if I were willing to kill you, and _I'm not, _death's just the easy way out. You're not done. Look inside yourself, like meditating. You taught me that, remember? You will see what I see: there is Light in you yet."

Bastila growled in frustration. "I know a flicker of Light still burns within me," she said, annoyed. "Malak felt it, too. He knew it could only be extinguished if I killed you. But what good is a single flicker of Light against the sea of Darkness I am drowning in? I can never atone for my betrayal!" As she spoke, her voice grew quieter, and a single tear born of her conviction of hopelessness slid down her nose.

Aithne's eyes stung. She knew where Bastila was coming from. She thought no one could know better. She pressed the hand she still held. "Oh, Bastila, I know the Darkness seems absolute," she murmured. "But you have to trust me, there is hope. Think of the Jedi Masters. Think of Juhani, and of Carth, and Mission, and Jolee, and your mother. Think of every kind word you've ever heard and every good deed you've ever witnessed and make yourself a lifeboat. There is Light and Life in the galaxy. Here, stand with me." She pulled Bastila to her feet, but retained her friend's hand. "How do you think I managed after I found out I was Revan? I don't know what you did after you turned. But I guarantee you that I've done worse. Giving up, thinking you can't atone, like death, is the easy way. Keeping on is harder. But you've got to. Come now, help us fight the Sith. We'll get through this!"

Bastila bit her lip, and Aithne felt hope grow in her heart. "Yes, I…I could join you in your battle against the Dark Lord," she said, just beginning to believe it. "That alone would not make up for what I have done, yet…it would be a step in the right direction." She looked up into Aithne's face, and hesitated. "I trust you, but how would you be able to trust me? How do you know I wouldn't turn on you when you faced Darth Malak? How do you know the Dark Side wouldn't make me betray you again?"

Aithne nodded quickly. She stepped away from Bastila and unhooked her sabers, flinging them across the room. She called Bastila's saber to her, activated it, and handed it over to Bastila. Bastila nearly dropped it from shock.

"Right," Aithne said in a loud, ringing voice. "Have at me! Do you want to kill me?" She spread her arms wide, maintaining eye contact. Bastila began shaking.

"You…you play a dangerous game," she stammered. Her voice and shoulders steadied. "Are you certain you wish to take this risk? I could end your life and gain Malak's favor with a single stroke of my lightsaber."

Aithne stepped up until there was less than a centimeter between her throat and the searing heat of Bastila's lightsaber. "You could," she said, slowly and calmly. "You won't. You're my best friend, and you've made a habit of saving my butt, not running lightsabers through me. C'mon Bastila, you're still you, and you serve the Light Side."

Aithne grinned. "You're aura's lightening as we speak," she added.

Bastila smiled. "You are brave," she said softly. "And some would say foolish." With a sigh, she deactivated her lightsaber and tossed it with Aithne's two. "But you are also right. The Dark Side has not wholly consumed me. I cannot raise my blade against you." She sighed again, looking at the door on the other side of the chamber. "I should stay here, though," she said. "If we face Malak I am afraid his Dark presence will overwhelm me. It would not be wise to expose myself to such temptation."

Aithne knew when to cave. "Alright," she said. "If it makes you feel any better. But Bastila," she added, with a glance at the holographic battle. "Can you let Carth and Jolee in here? And when you do, can you please use your Battle Meditation to help the Republic Fleet?"

Bastila's eyes lit up. "Yes, that would be for the best," she said excitedly. "You don't need me to defeat Malak anyway. Now I understand that a true Jedi is a match for any Sith. Even the Dark Lord himself. I will release Carth and Jolee," she said, focusing for a moment. "But they should probably stay in the hallway. I have reinforced your own lock. I must concentrate if I am to use my Battle Meditation to aid the Republic Fleet." She looked at the holographic battle and frowned. "I am their only hope of destroying the Star Forge and ending the Sith menace."

She gestured towards the door on the opposite side of the chamber. 'You must go and face Malak, but you have to hurry. Once I turn the battle in the Republic's favor we won't have much time to escape the Star Forge before it is destroyed. Good Luck, and may the Force be with you."

Aithne's face twisted, and her eyes stung. She ran to Bastila and enfolded the Jedi in a giant bear hug. "Bastila, it's good to have you back! Good Luck! See you on the other side!"

Then, in one fluid movement, she summoned her lightsabers back to her hands, releasing Bastila. The younger Jedi knelt before the holographic battle. Squaring her shoulders, Aithne walked through the door that would bring her face to face with Malak.

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><p><strong>AN: YAY! Bastila's decided black's not her color, too! Next up, we have an entire chapter of Malak/former Revan interaction. Expect lots of emotion, some gore…oh, you KNOW what to expect. Just read it! I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, too. Whether you have or not, you should tell me what you think!**

**May the Force Be With You,**

**LMSharp**


	44. The Death of the Sith Lord

**Disclaimer: Darth Malak, Revan, and Carth Onasi are not my inventions. And though I have some responsibility for the persona Aithne Morrigan, I garner no profit from her.**

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><p>Chapter Forty-Four<p>

Aithne passed into the first factory portion of the Star Forge she supposed she'd seen since she ceased being Revan. She looked around with some curiosity. Bins stood around the room, and she saw Rakatan consoles and generators ranged around in an antiseptic semicircle. Of far more import than these, though, was the tall caped figure standing near the end of the room.

Aithne guessed his "dark presence", as Bastila had termed it, _was_ rather overwhelming. She felt the Dark Side emanating off him in waves almost as overpowering as those from the Star Forge itself. The robes mostly kept that from influencing her, however. The real danger, Aithne thought, lay in her own emotions towards the man.

Aithne was no Sith. She was not in the habit of allowing her emotions to control her. But nor was she a Jedi and in the habit of pretending that emotions did not exist. Most times, she attempted to reign in her emotions and work around them. But as she stared into the face of the man that had ordered the attacks on Telos, Taris, and Dantooine, who had gleefully revealed her dark identity and reveled in her heartbreak, the man that had tortured and turned Bastila, who had tried to kill her nonstop for nearly two years, and who she knew she must have once cared for as an apprentice, Aithne was having a little bit of understandable trouble bridling her confusion, anger, and hatred.

Malak didn't seem too surprised that she had walked through the door instead of Bastila. But he did seem displeased. He sneered and crossed his arms.

Aithne walked up to him. She put her hands on her hips, waiting. Sure enough, he opened the conversation with every bit of his usual charm.

"I tire of this game, Revan. You have been a thorn in my side from the moment I seized the mantle of Dark Lord from your feeble grasp!"

Aithne lifted an eyebrow at him. "Just a thorn? Surely I have done a little better than that."

Malak glowered at her from his lofty height. "You made a mistake coming here, Revan," he informed her. "The Star Forge fuels my command of the Dark Side. You are no match for me here. And this time, you will not escape!"

Aithne glared right back at him. "Malak, I've been all but running towards you since the _Endar Spire_ crashed! There has _been _no escaping! And there won't be now. For either of us. Care to surrender? You don't have to be the Dark Lord. You must be feeling the burden by now."

"Spare me your preaching!" Malak said loftily. "I will have none of it! You are an insignificant speck beneath my notice."

Aithne sighed and pressed a hand to her heart. "And here you had me thinking that I was a thorn in your side! You've broken my heart, you have."

Malak clenched his fists. For a moment he looked quite petulant. "You never did take me seriously, Revan! You were always so…"

Aithne smirked and interjected, batting her eyelashes. "Charming? Actually in possession of a sense of humor?" The more she could nettle him, the better. Angry people made mistakes. She stood taut, just waiting for him to make a move.

Malak's eyes narrowed. "You are finished, Revan," he said, regaining his composure. "I have surpassed you in every way and accomplished what you never could. I have unleashed the true potential of this Rakatan factory! You had no idea of the power within this place. It's very walls are alive with Dark Side energies! And now, my old Master, I will let the Star Forge itself destroy you!"

With a speed that belied his height, Malak hit a keypad on the wall, darting through the door behind him. It closed after him. Light flashed behind Aithne, and she felt power surge.

She whirled about, and saw the dozens of generators around the room generating droids. The half-formed bodies glared at her from rapidly solidifying green sensors. Aithne made a disgusted noise in her throat and turned to the door Malak had gone through. With a controlled, powerful movement, she cut out the lock with a lightsaber, and willed the door to open.

She passed through into the elevator and punched the button to follow Malak up to the heart of the Star Forge. As the elevator shut, Aithne gave an ironic wave to the droids just coming up.

She found Malak in an enormous room she halfway remembered from her Revan days. The room encompassed two entire levels. What looked like human bodies were suspended in pillars of eerie green light. Aithne disregarded them for the moment. Malak was Lord of the Sith. It was unsurprising that he had grotesque and macabre notions of interior design.

He had his back to her when she entered. She strode in and yelled, "Hey! Meatbag!"

It was delicious just how quickly he turned. Malak's lightsaber came out and his brow wrinkled ominously.

Though Aithne was not a short woman, Malak towered over her. Aithne glared at him anyway, undaunted. "I have chased you all over the galaxy," she said. "You fired on my ship. You have blown up planets to kill me. You have sent assassins and Dark Jedi after me by the legion. But every _single_ time it looks like it's just you and me, you run for the hills. I cannot believe someone so cowardly was once my apprentice! But now there's nowhere left to run."

"Revan," Malak said, smoothly controlled now that _she_ was losing it. "I was certain the defenses of the Star Forge would destroy you, but I see there is more of your old self within you than I expected."

Aithne made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat. "It was a stupid plan," she informed him. "Any idiot with a lightsaber can cut out a lock, and your droids are slow."

Malak tensed in anger. "You did that then, too," he reminisced. "You cut down my every plan, insulted me at every turn. You are stronger now, though. Stronger than you ever were during your reign as the Dark Lord. I did not think that was possible."

"Did you not? By all accounts you were always unimaginative."

Malak shook his head, his anger gone. "I am tempted to try and capture you alive, Revan," he said in as much of a tone of admiration as his artificial larynx could manufacture. "Then I could break your will and bind you to me as my apprentice, as I did Bastila. You would be a far greater asset to me than even Bastila and her Battle Meditation, if I could control you."

Aithne scoffed. Malak nodded in acknowledgement.

"Perhaps you are too powerful to be my apprentice," he agreed. "I betrayed you when I realized my own strength was greater than yours; in time you might try to do the same to me."

"I'm not going back over to the Dark Side," Aithne said. "And I'd never serve you."

Malak's eyes narrowed. "Foolish words," he said mildly. "The Darkness and the Light wage a constant war within you. The balance is tipped one way now, but it can easily be tipped back. Savior, conqueror, hero, villain. You are all things, Revan, and yet you are nothing. In the end you belong neither to the Light nor the Darkness. You will forever stand alone."

Aithne froze. Malak's words struck a chord within her. A sort of deep-down pain she hadn't even acknowledged before throbbed. It was true, she realized. She was no Sith, just as she was no Jedi. Even if she succeeded in killing Malak now, even if she saved the galaxy for the second time in her messed up life, could the Republic ever trust her again? Could the Sith? It was as Malak said: she had no real place. Not anymore.

She stopped herself there. It was true that the Republic might never accept her. The Sith definitely wouldn't. But still she had a place. Aithne thought of Jolee, and recalled that at least one other Jedi ascribed to her view of the Force. She thought of Canderous and Zaalbar and Juhani, and knew that even now there were those that considered her worth following. She thought of Bastila, just a floor and a room away. Aithne had a friend that understood. And Aithne thought of Carth, and Mission, and even Dustil, and dared to hope that one day she might have a family. She licked her lips nervously.

"You may be right," she admitted, forced into seriousness. "Nevertheless, I believe in hope, and the power of redemption."

Malak looked amused. "Of course. What else do you have? Fate and destiny have conspired to keep you alive despite my best efforts; they have thrust you into the role of savior. We have been inexorably pushed to this final confrontation, Revan. I see now that this can only be settled when one of us destroys the other. Once again we will face each other in single combat…and the winner will decide the fate of the galaxy!"

Aithne was tired. Physically, she had been fighting nonstop for hours. She couldn't exactly check her chrono with Malak rushing her, but she suspected that it was a few hours into the night by now. But she was emotionally exhausted, too. For months she had been planet hopping, dodging assassins and chasing after Star Maps and going on wild goose chases trying to get here. Just weeks ago she had discovered her entire life was a lie and she was the ex-Lord of the Sith with the war and thousands of murders and tortures on her conscience. Three days ago she had found out that her best friend was a traitor and exchanged professions of love with Carth Onasi. Today, she had realized for the first time that the Republic might not welcome her back after everything. She had fought through legions of Sith, and had no clue how her companions fared. She had expended nearly all her remaining energy in the confrontation with Bastila. Her eyes burned now, and her muscles ached.

In comparison, Malak was fresh as a daisy, and that was not even accounting for the Star Forge that would back his every move now. But Aithne suspected that even had they been in the middle of the Coruscant Jedi complex with Malak as tired as she was now, he would still be one of the hardest opponents she had ever fought.

From their previous skirmish on the _Leviathan_, and from his stance as he circled her now testing her defenses, Aithne knew that she was the better technical fighter. But Malak was just so _strong_. He had over a foot in height on her, and several kilograms, too, it looked like. He attacked with a single-minded brutality that in all her fabricated or imagined actual life Aithne couldn't remember facing before. His every blow set her bones to ringing, and he oozed the Dark Side like a toxin.

Still, his bulk made him clumsy, and Aithne utilized that to the best of her ability. She'd always moved through melee like a dancer, and now she knew it was saving her life. She was quicker than him, for all of her exhaustion.

Malak finally grew tired of the preliminaries and attacked in earnest, as much with the Force as with his lightsaber. The Force crackled around Aithne as he tried to send Lightning through her body, break her bones, and make her will submit to the fear that lurked within her. Now Aithne called upon her Jedi training, both recent and forgotten, and her own considerable ingenuity. She pushed his every attack aside rapidly, attacking his brain in her turn.

He faltered in his lightsaber sequence. Aithne smiled grimly, and added something else to her favor. She was quicker than him, and she had always been cleverer. Both as Revan and now. She kicked up with her left leg and connected to Malak's stomach, beneath his guard. He staggered back, winded. Aithne railed away at his brain with the Force, searching for an opening to send her own push through.

Something flickered in Malak's dark eyes, gone before Aithne could tell what it had been. He lashed out wildly with his saber, equipped by his height to have a longer than usual reach. Aithne darted in, stabbing down with her right lightsaber into Malak's leg.

He cried out metallically as Aithne burned a hole through his leg. His saber curved back around instinctively, and Aithne dodged under it, backing away.

Malak winced. But then, unaccountably, he laughed. He staggered back to one of the obscene floating bodies. "You continue to amaze me, Revan," he panted. "If only you had been the one to uncover the true power of the Star Forge: you might have been truly invincible. But you were a fool. All you saw was an enormous factory; all you ever imagined was an infinite fleet rolling forth to crush the Republic. You were blind, Revan- blind and stupid."

Aithne felt a slight mental touch, the equivalent to being tapped on the shoulder. _Hurry, Aithne, _said Bastila, inside her head. _The Republic has started to break through. You won't have much time. _

She shook her head, returning to Malak. "Is there some reason you stopped our 'single combat to decide the fate of the galaxy'?" she asked acidly. "Because I've no interest in hearing your drivel."

Malak looked as smug as a tattooed jawless giant could look. "The Star Forge is more than just a space station," he informed her. "In some ways, it is like a living creature. It hungers. And it can feed on the Dark Side that is within all of us! Look around you, Revan," he instructed, gesturing at his unspeakable décor. "See the bodies? You should recognize them from the Academy."

Now that he mentioned it, on the second level, Aithne thought she saw a Padawan Sentinel who used to talk to her about History in the Archives. She looked back at Malak, horror-struck.

"These are the Jedi who fell when I attacked Dantooine," Malak confirmed gleefully. "For all intents and purposes dead, except for one difference. I have not allowed them to become one with the Force. Instead, I have brought them here. The _Star Forge_ corrupts what remains of their power and transfers the Dark taint to me!"

Aithne's jaw set. Taris flashed before her eyes, the women and children screaming for cover even as their husbands and fathers were incinerated trying to protect them from the bombs. She saw Carth's eyes, haunted by the unjust death of his wife. She saw Dustil, warped and angry. She saw the Sith she had killed on the way, some as evil as the man in front of her, but most just warped by his teachings. And she saw these men and women from the Academy now, hopelessly trapped in service to the one they died fighting, their souls permitted no peace, not even in death.

This man was evil, and she'd come here to stop him. She'd kill him.

Malak seemed to read her thoughts. "You cannot beat me, Revan," he said. "Not here on the Star Forge. Not when I can draw upon the power of all these Jedi! And once you are beaten I will do the same to you. You will be trapped in a terrible existence between life and death, your power feeding me as I conquer the galaxy!"

With that, he turned to the Jedi behind him. He pulled on it, a simple Force Drain, but the Jedi floating inside the column shriveled up like a raisin, his power gone, his soul departed. Aithne felt new strength surge into Malak, and before her eyes the wound she had inflicted herself not two minutes ago closed over.

Aithne bit her lip, thinking rapidly. "You've always been a bully Malak," she said. Her mouth was dry. "And as a taunt aimed to cause me to despair, that was well done." Then she smirked, unable to resist. "Except now, you've told me your plan, haven't you?"

Malak's eyes lost their smugness in a millisecond, focusing on Aithne with alarming intensity. She winked at him, already applying the Force Speed. In a nanosecond she'd jumped across the room, to more Jedi trapped in Malak's dreadful Limbo.

She didn't exactly have time to consider it, but instinctively she knew that she had to disrupt the Star Forge's pull on the Jedi's contact with the Force without corrupting herself. Frowning, she held out her hands and sent a storm of Lightning through the two nearest corpses.

It worked like a charm. The Jedi crumpled up, finally looking at peace, and fell to the floor as the receptacles floating them sizzled and went dark.

Aithne didn't have time to celebrate her cleverness, because she heard a grunt, and sensed Malak flying over her head. She dodged right, sending out another stream of Lightning and bringing down another Jedi. Then she was jumping again.

"Revan!" Malak cried from across the room as she took out another two of his spare batteries. A stream of his own Lightning, directed at her, just missed. Aithne kept part of her attention focused on her nemesis, dodging his attacks usually a hairsbreadth early. She attempted to vary her pattern of attack on the Jedi corpses, to make it harder for Malak to attack her as she destroyed his backup system.

She noted grimly that her Force levels were depleting rapidly. She was dealing death, and the life available to draw on in the room was dwindling. Even the life available in the system was diminishing as the battle raged on outside of the Star Forge. She considered draining one of the corpses to replenish herself. She knew how. But as the thought crossed her mind the Dark Side pulsed around her eagerly. Aithne grimaced, and rejected the notion.

She sent Lightning pulsing through the last corpse in the room with fierce satisfaction. She hoped the Jedi Malak had abused were at peace now. She turned, saw an arc of blazing red light, and dodged, but this time she was just a breath too late.

The very tip of Malak's lightsaber hit her just under where her white vest stopped. It burned up and through her robes and into her skin.

Aithne gasped as the searing heat carved up her side. The lightsaber had been thrown; she fell as it returned to Malak. Three cries sounded in her head. Bastila's rang out loud and clear. But more faintly, she also heard Jolee and Juhani react to her wound. Her vision went gray and her head swam. Her burn throbbed with pain.

From a distance she heard Malak laughing angrily in his metallic monotone. "Oh, well done, Revan. Really, for you, quite careless. You are dangerous and powerful, true. But I always knew I was stronger than you. And in the end, you are merely a very large nuisance, a hurdle in my path to taking over the galaxy."

Aithne's mind stirred. He thought she was dying, she realized. _Am I?_ she wondered hazily_. It would be so frightfully anticlimactic to come all this way, nearly foil Malak's plot, and then die of a lightsaber to the side._ She laughed weakly and opened her eyes. Her hand went to her side, and her nerves screamed as she brushed the wound.

Her brows rose, though. The graze had missed any vital organs. A large chunk of flesh was missing from her hip, true, but the lightsaber had cauterized the wound, so she wasn't losing any blood. Still, it hurt like a viper kinrath sting. She heard the sound of a lightsaber being reactivated. She raised her head and saw Malak gazing down at her worriedly. She hadn't died yet, and he couldn't tell from his position that she wasn't going to.

The deck shook suddenly. Aithne had a flashback to Taris, when Malak had fired on the planet and the entire world had shaken. She realized that the Republic must have broken through the Sith lines. Back on Taris, a looming evil had taken out the entire world. Now, she felt the Darkness around her tremble as Light shot through it in a dozen places, like pinpricks in an enormous black shroud.

Malak felt it too. "What…" he began, looking away from Aithne's crouched form for a moment.

Aithne, gritting her teeth, took the opportunity to stand. "Bastila," she muttered.

"But you…you killed her, did you not?"

Aithne's laugh came out a hiss through her teeth. She winced as the mirth shook her side. "No," she managed, igniting her lightsabers once more.

Malak's face set. Aithne saw no doubts in his mind of his victory in this, their final battle. Privately, she agreed with him. She was in no condition to fight. But she also saw, amidst all the anger and arrogance in Malak's pale, tattooed, and disfigured face, a flicker of desperation. He was wondering if he could win in time to escape the Star Forge before it fell out of orbit and burned in the atmosphere of the Rakatan world below.

Aithne smiled fiercely, though sadness for Carth and her dear friends pulled at the corners of her eyes. "No," she whispered again. "You won't be able to get away in time." Then, shutting off her brain's cries of pain and drawing on her last vestiges of strength, she attacked.

Republic fire shook the Star Forge as Aithne, sometimes known as Revan, battled her former apprentice, the brutal and power-mad Lord of the Sith. All finesse was forgotten on both parts of the battle. Malak fought for his own preservation, fighting towards the door to escape the oncoming Republic Fleet. Aithne fought to destroy this banner of evil. She fought to end it.

Strange. Aithne had no doubt that one way or another she would end up dead before the sun rose behind the Temple of the Ancients on the Rakatan homeworld. But though she could regret a future lost, she could not repent of her path. _Carth would be proud of me_, she thought. Her strokes fell into a peaceful rhythm as she relentlessly blocked Malak's path to the door. She was beyond exhaustion now, beyond life. She faced Malak calmly, moving in some pattern from the heart of the Force. Pain throbbed in her side, but it was unimportant. There was just her and Malak. Aithne straddled the edge where Light met Dark, gazing into her former pupil's yellow eyes. _You've gone too far, Alek_, said a forgotten voice at the back of her mind from before a lifetime ago. _You are warped and full of hate. You are lost, and now your time is up_.

As Aithne calmed, Malak grew steadily more desperate. As she fell into rhythm, he fell out of it. His strokes grew wilder and wilder. Aithne felt something slimy in him retreating with every passing moment, leaving him twisted and Dark, but vulnerable.

He was panicking, she realized. Fear rolled off him in waves. Aithne wasn't sure if it was the impending collapse of the Star Forge he'd thought invincible, or his perpetual failure to kill her. Finally, one of his sweeps went ridiculously wide. Aithne brought her right saber around in a smooth upswing and took his right hand off at the wrist. With the left, in a move Carth had once reminded her of on Kashyyyk, she cut into his side. Her lightsaber did not stop at the hip. She felt her blade meet Malak's organs, and she twisted, slightly surprised. Malak exhaled and fell to his knees, clutching his right arm with his left.

"Impossible," he said. His voice was already beginning to fade. "I…I cannot be beaten. I am the Dark Lord of the Sith!"

Aithne switched off her lightsabers. She reattached them to her belt with a wince. "Still you are a mortal man," she said quietly. "The Dark Side is no stronger than the Light." She closed her eyes, recalling Malak's earlier words. "Or…no stronger than me, whatever I am."

Malak coughed a little. Blood tried to come up out of his nonexistent mouth, and his voice box crackled. "Still…still spouting the wisdom of the Jedi, I see. Of a sort, anyway." He sat back heavily on his feet, and Aithne knelt beside him.

"Maybe there is truth in what you say," he admitted, as his eyes dimmed. Aithne helped him lay back, cradling his shoulders. She supposed once upon a time she had been fond of the monster before her. And certainly now, in his last moments, she felt sorry for him. She did not begrudge him her company as he died.

He looked up at her, struggling to focus on her face. Aithne's arm still cradled his back, and she felt his heartbeat slowing. "I…I cannot help but wonder, Revan," he whispered. "What would have happened had our positions been reversed? What if fate had decreed I would be captured by the Jedi? Could I have abandoned the Dark, as you did? If you had not led me down the Dark path in the first place, what destiny would I have found?"

Aithne's jaw tightened. Even now, Malak radiated Darkness. He seemed to be regretting something, but he still blamed her and fate for the path he had taken. There was no repentance in his mind: only despair. "Malak," she said quietly, "I don't know what I did to tempt you a lifetime ago. I regret it, whatever it was. But I know myself, and you would have had a choice. You made your choice to follow me at all, and it definitely was your decision to continue on as you have."

Malak's eyes lost their focus. He stared up at the ceiling. "I suppose you are right," he said. Aithne had to strain to hear him. "I suppose you speak the truth. I alone must accept responsibility for my fate. I wanted to be Master of the Sith and ruler of the galaxy. But that destiny was not mine, Revan. It might have been yours, Revan, but never mine. And in the end, as the darkness takes me, I am nothing…" his words trailed off and the light on his artificial jaw went dim. His heartbeat had stopped. There was no malice or animation left in his gaze: only emptiness. He was dead.

Aithne swept a hand over his face to close his eyes. She stood then, and looked around at the bodies of the fallen Jedi, at her own former apprentice. The Star Forge shook beneath her. _Let this be their tomb_.

Vaguely surprised she was still alive, Aithne headed for the elevator, not entirely sure what to do now. She walked slowly. Her mind was one big blank. An enormous weight had lifted off her shoulders, but an even larger vacuum stretched in front of her. The elevator reopened.

Aithne had directed it to the opening level, where the _Ebon Hawk_ was docked. She stumbled out, into solid, armored arms. She looked up into concerned caramel eyes in confusion.

"Carth?" she managed in a whisper.

"You're alive!" he said, equally stunned. "What happened?"

Aithne's eyes flickered back to the elevator. "I am alive," she repeated, still processing the fact. She looked back at Carth and clutched his arms. "I…I killed him. It's over."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yeah, yeah, so you're all wondering exactly how this differs from canon. I mean, I made Revan a girl, but she still sided with the Republic. Bastila still wound up redeemed, and Malak still died, and the Star Forge still went down. **

**In my opinion, though, the story doesn't end there. The war's over, but there are still loose ends to tie up. There are things to clean up and rebuild. **

**Does anyone else ever wonder exactly how much the Republic knew about Revan? I mean, the Jedi knew, obviously. But did the Republic? I have a hard time believing that they would just grant this manifestly dangerous woman who'd wreaked all kinds of havoc and started the war total amnesty just because she happened to lose her memory and step in to hand them a way to defeat the Sith. At this point, readers, we go completely AU. **

**This novelization of Knights of the Old Republic makes it a point to actually deal with the clean-up and confrontations that realistically would have happened after Revan showed up at the end of the war she caused. I decided against killing off a character, but someone does end up maimed. And after a lot of explanations and fighting, I plan on giving Aithne the retirement she's wanted from the beginning. **

**See, the whole True Sith thing? I must admit I have never liked it. I happen to think that someone, particularly a Jedi, can go horrendously wrong without there being some sort of ulterior motive or reasoning behind it. Moreover, this is all the more likely to occur after the Jedi in question has triumphed in a vicious, bloody war by use of incredible power and superior intellect and had to deal with amazing numbers of very corrupted, slow, and otherwise stupid personages. **

**So I figure, whatever! She fell. She came back. Can't it just stop there? The main problem I have with the extended Star Wars universe is that no one ever gets a break. Revan has saved the galaxy twice and nearly taken over. She's done enough. It may be anticlimactic for her to more or less retire, help clean up some of the mess she created, live out her days in peace, and eventually fade into obscurity, but I think it's pretty realistic. Furthermore, she deserves it. **

**If you're interested, keep reading to find out how it all unfolds. And remember to let me know what you think! (Oh, and I apologize for this ridiculously long Author's Note)**

**May the Force Be With You,**

**LMSharp**


	45. Consequences, Sentences, and Rewards

**Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to this world or these characters.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Forty-Five<p>

Bastila gripped Aithne's arm, and Aithne noticed her standing beside Carth for the first time. "That's wonderful news!" the younger Jedi cried. Aithne winced, and her knees shook. Bastila's face lengthened. "Are you…are you alright?"

Aithne smiled shakily. "He got me pretty good in the side, actually. I'll live."

Bastila looked down at the burn in Aithne's robes and pursed her lips. "We'll look at it on the _Hawk_," she decided. "There's no time. I was able to use my Battle Meditation to allow the Republic to break through the Sith Fleet. The capital ships are firing on the Star Forge!" Just then the space station shuddered particularly violently. Carth looked up at the ceiling in apprehension.

"We all have to get out of here now, before this entire complex comes down around our ears. Everyone else is already on the ship! Let's move!" He draped an arm around Aithne's good side to assist her. His voice was calm, despite his urgent words. He moved smoothly, if hastily towards the _Ebon Hawk_, half-supporting Aithne's weight.

"Carth," she wanted to know. "Are they safe? Is everyone safe?"

He didn't meet her eyes. "Everyone's alive," he managed. "But…"

"We didn't get off without a scratch," Aithne said calmly. "That's alright. I didn't expect that much. Who's been hurt?"

Carth took off as the Star Forge began to fall from orbit. Aithne watched from the cockpit as the outside of the great space station turned red as it burned in the atmosphere of the Rakatan homeworld. It was returning to its home planet. Its evil would be buried with its makers.

The _Ebon Hawk_ shook like the paper starships children made in classrooms across the galaxy. But she held. And as the _Hawk_ dove into the empty whiteness of hyperspace, Canderous showed Aithne to the med bay, where Jolee stood over the wounded.

Canderous himself had added a few new scars to his collection, but he hadn't suffered anything serious, and his implant was already repairing the damage he had undergone. Mission and the droids were unscathed, though the teenager was exhausted and still somewhat frightened from the battle.

"She and Teethree were really going at it with the Sith," Canderous said in an undertone. "Flamethrowers, grenades, rapid fire. It was beautiful. In fact, they were causing so much confusion that the Sith, even some of the Dark Jedi, couldn't focus on Zaalbar, Juhani, and I." He snorted. "To top it off, the kid kept yelling abuse at them. Taunts, insults way better than any of the rubbish you come up with…"

"And?" Aithne said.

Canderous shrugged. "The Sith got annoyed. This sniper decided he'd take out the annoying kid in the back. He had a high powered rifle, very nice, and he shot. He would've got her, too, but Zaalbar…" he nodded at the Wookiee on the first table in the med bay.

"He jumped in front?"

Canderous nodded heavily. "Took the bolt just below the shoulder. He lost a lot of blood, but I think he'll be fine in a few weeks."

Aithne nodded. She was relieved it hadn't been worse for the big Wookiee. She walked forward to his table. "Big Z?" she said quietly. His black eyes opened, regarding her. Aithne's lip trembled. /Thank you. You have acted with great honor and courage./ She bowed, and he gripped her hand tightly with a leathery paw, before drifting back off to sleep.

Aithne moved past the Wookiee prince to the next table. A sheet covered the occupant, hiding the full extent of her injuries, but as blood had leaked through in several places, it was no great consolation.

Juhani's chest could barely be seen to be moving. Jolee stood over her. His face was drawn, and his eyes were shadowed.

"How is she?" Aithne asked in an undertone.

"Juhani's holding on," he said wearily. "But only just. A Sith cut her leg off sometime in the battle, and she has multiple wounds pretty much everywhere."

"She saved our collective behinds," Canderous growled. "When the Republic started firing on the space station, all the Sith started trying to get to the docking bay at once. It had been manageable before. Suddenly there were too many of them, though. That's when Zaalbar got shot. Then, around an hour ago, Juhani just…lost it. She started attacking every Sith she saw, even some she didn't. It was mindless, instinctive. The times I've seen something like that I can count on one hand."

Juhani's jaw clenched in her unconsciousness, and a small murmur came from her split furry lip.

"Ah, she'll be okay," Jolee said suddenly. "She's a fighter, this one is."

Aithne frowned. Around an hour ago would have been when Malak wounded her. She slid down against the wall, and Jolee frowned. "Lass?"

Bastila appeared in the doorway of the already crowded med bay. "She's hurt, Jolee. Right side, just above the hip. A lightsaber burn." She scowled down at Aithne. "She slew the Dark Lord of the Sith on it." She nodded once, turned, and went to rejoin Carth in the cockpit, just as if she'd never been gone.

Aithne grinned. "She's a telltale, but I'm glad she's back."

Jolee knelt beside her. "I felt you when you were wounded," he said matter-of-factly. "You'd better let me look at that."

Aithne shook her head. "Lightsaber wound, Jolee. It's already clean and cauterized. I'm not bleeding, and I'm not in any immediate danger. And you are already exhausted, my friend."

Jolee stared at her, unimpressed. "Are you in pain, lass?"

"No," Aithne lied.

Jolee rolled his eyes. "You're a liar, dammit. And I'm a healer. Now let me look at that." With gentle, but strong hands, he rolled up the bottom of Aithne's gray shirt over her vest.

He glared at her. "A good chunk of your flesh is missing here, kid. I'm surprised you're still conscious. Those nerve endings must be screaming at you."

Aithne stared at the ground beneath her feet and refused to answer. Jolee muttered something under his breath about how young people in his day were always polite to _their_ healers. Then he put his right hand over Aithne's wound and closed his eyes.

Aithne bit back a shriek. It felt like the lightsaber was being dug into her side again. Heat radiated from her side, and she knew she was bleeding. Stars danced in front of her vision. Just as suddenly, the blood stopped, and her wound started to itch and sting. She felt a sharp, different pain as raw flesh grew in under Jolee's hand and reacted to his touch. Then all pain ceased, leaving only the itching.

Jolee removed his hand, and opened eyes even more deeply shadowed. Aithne looked down quickly at her wound. A healthy brown scab sat in a perfect circle just above her hipbone.

"Be…be careful how you exercise the next few days," Jolee said, a little breathless. "I can take care of the scar, too, later, if one develops…but not now."

Aithne slung an arm around Jolee's shoulders and dragged him to his feet. She glared at him. "I didn't want you to take care of it at all, Bindo, let alone put nearly a month's worth of healing into twenty seconds! You'll kill yourself! Juhani and Zaalbar still need you. You don't have time to sleep for a week! I'm not near as good of a healer as you are, nor is Bastila!" She made a noise of disgust in her throat and half-carried the old man to the men's dormitory. She set him down on a bunk. "Sleep," she ordered him curtly. "Thanks to you, I probably have enough energy to stay up with Juhani and Zaalbar. Force knows you don't."

Jolee frowned. "Don't you mother me, Aithne Morrigan," he began irritably. His words slurred with his weariness, though, and his eyelids drooped.

Aithne rolled her eyes. "I just saved the galaxy," she informed him. She bent and kissed the old Jedi on the cheek. "I can do whatever I want."

Two weeks later, though, Aithne was beginning to worry that she couldn't. They were two days out from Coruscant, and uncertainties seemed to be springing out from every direction.

It wasn't like things were bad. Zaalbar was almost completely recovered. He was lumbering around the _Ebon Hawk_, eating insane amounts of food. He said he was still healing. Mission said he just liked to eat. When he wasn't eating he was in the garage with Canderous, upgrading and polishing Bacca's Blade.

Juhani had woken up for a few hours the day before. Jolee said she was out of danger, though she would have to be taken to a Coruscant hospital when they arrived to be fitted with a prosthetic. In time, she would move around just as well as she had before.

No, the crew would recover and move on from the war. The question, Aithne thought, as she sat in a corner of the cargo hold, was to what. Particularly for herself.

The closer the ship got to Coruscant, the more and more Aithne worried about just how far knowledge of her true identity extended in the Republic. The Jedi Council knew. But she was fairly certain that the average everyday Jedi was completely unaware that Darth Revan lived on as a changed amnesiac. The question upon which her future hinged was whether or not the Republic higher-ups were just as clueless.

If they knew, things would be easier. If they knew, they still hadn't made it public knowledge. When they found out that she knew who she was, some of them might get a little uncomfortable. But they would have to acknowledge that the event had always been a risk. Quite possibly she might be allowed to continue to live anonymously under Aithne Morrigan. The Republic might even be willing to come up with some story to downplay her part in the salvation of the galaxy, so attention wouldn't fall on the strange Jedi woman that had come from nowhere.

If the Republic hadn't known about the schemes the Jedi had been hatching throughout the war, Aithne was in considerable trouble. The entire thing would have to be explained, and the only sensible explanation was the truth. Aithne wasn't sure she wanted to tell the Republic the truth, though, if they didn't already know.

Revan had saved the galaxy back in the Mandalorian Wars. Aithne herself had just ended a war that had been threatening the very existence of the Republic. But that didn't cancel out her crimes. Aithne knew the Republic wouldn't forget that she had started the war she'd just ended. She was, for better or worse, the most brilliant tactical mind in the galaxy, an extraordinarily powerful Jedi that claimed no Order, and a traitor twice over. She was simultaneously the Republic's best hope and their biggest threat. And politicians and military types would have to see the threat before hope. If the Republic hadn't known previously that she'd been mixed up in all this, Aithne had no idea how she was going to escape imprisonment or worse once it was explained to them.

And that wasn't all, either. Bastila might be in trouble, too. Canderous had work to do that only she could help him with. Zaalbar needed to get back to Kashyyyk. And Mission…

Someone knocked on the open doorway. Aithne looked up to see Mission and Bastila.

"We were looking for you," Bastila said. "Why have you hidden away back here?"

Mission frowned. "She came here a lot- right after you were…you know." She walked over to Aithne and sat beside her. "Hey. What's wrong? It's over, right? Carth was saying there's going to be a big party when we land. We'll be interplanetary news. We'll probably all get medals."

Bastila sat across from her. "I'm sure that you and Carth will," she said to Mission. She looked up at Aithne in understanding. "Aithne's position- and my own- is a bit more tenuous."

Aithne laughed mirthlessly. "You got that right. I'm actually thinking about hijacking a fighter and hightailing it out of here to live on the Rim when we land," she told Mission and Bastila.

Mission gazed from Aithne's face to Bastila's, incredulous. "I don't get it," she said.

Aithne sighed. "Malak's dead, the Star Forge is destroyed, and the Sith have disbanded. They've all either surrendered or fled to planets outside Republic jurisdiction. Yeah. That's down to us. But you have to remember who started this war. I can guarantee the Republic haven't forgotten. Bastila? Will they know?"

Bastila frowned. "I don't know," she admitted. "Your position is scarcely better than mine. Carth told the Republic that I fell to the Dark Side, and it is on record that I caused the loss of several ships in the battle before you found me."

"But…they'll forgive you. Both of you," Mission said. "They have to, right?"

Aithne smiled bitterly. "They're the Republic. They don't have to do anything. They're weak now, and Malak's dead. They'll be needing someone to pin this on to hold them together, and on top of that, from their point of view I really am a threat to the future of the Republic."

"But you're not," Mission said. "You said yourself that you don't want to rule the galaxy."

"For all they know she could just be saying that," Bastila said quietly.

Mission's face had turned very pale. She looked from Bastila to Aithne, gray eyes wide with fear. "Should we run, then? Me, 'n' you, Bastila, Zaalbar, and Teethree?"

"We'd have to take Aytchkay," Aithne said. Mission made a face.

"If we had to," she said.

Aithne thought about it for a moment. She stared at the floor, then said finally, "No. I've cast my lot with the Republic. I'll see this through, one way or another, and hope for the best. Force knows I've no energy to fight anymore."

"Well, I'll stick with you," Mission declared fiercely. "And if they try to lock you up, I'll bust you out and we'll blow this planet!"

Aithne grinned at her and pulled the teenager in for a hug. Mission turned to Bastila. "You, too, Bas. You need anything, I'll be there."

Bastila smiled, but shook her head. "I shall face the consequences of my actions, whatever they may be. Besides, my mother is on Coruscant."

Aithne nodded. She gripped Bastila's shoulder. "You're amazing, Bas. Always."

Bastila stood, "Thank you, Aithne," she said. "Pardon, I need to think." Aithne waved, and she got up to go. Mission almost followed her, but Aithne grabbed her wrist.

"Hold it a minute, will you? We need to talk."

Mission shrugged. "Sure, Aithne. What about?"

"Have you talked to Zaalbar about his plans lately?"

Mission shifted. "No, not really." She looked away.

"You know I'm releasing him from his life debt, right? He's going to go back to Kashyyyk to help his father." Aithne said gently. "After the big party on Coruscant, anyway."

Mission was quiet a moment. "I'm sure they'll let me stay," she said. "I mean, I understand Shyriiwook. I had to learn, knocking around with Big Z all those years on Taris."

"Mission, I don't think that's the best idea," Aithne said. "It's just, I think it might be better for you…I think you might be happier if…if you stayed with me. I promised myself that I'd take care of you way back on Taris, and I made that promise to you on Tatooine. I haven't forgotten."

Mission frowned. "Look," she said, "That's real nice of you and all, but you don't have to drag me around anywhere if you don't want." She smiled, a little sadly. "I ain't no kid, remember? And you ain't my mother. I figure, Republic hero. There's bound to be a job and a planet for me someplace, right?"

Aithne looked at her. "You could probably go any number of places," she said. "And I know you can take care of yourself. You saved my butt a couple times on this journey. You saved everyone's butt on the _Leviathan_. I'm not asking you to stay with me because I think you need a babysitter. I'm asking to adopt you, because I love you. I think you deserve a home and a family and a future, Mission, and I'd like it to be with me."

Mission was dead silent for a moment. "You want to adopt me? Like, legally and everything?"

Aithne nodded. Mission raised an eyebrow. "But you just said you might end up in jail."

Aithne raised one of her eyebrows in turn. "You just said you'd bust me out."

Mission laughed, but she didn't take her eyes off Aithne. "So, what? Would it mean that you actually would be my mother or something?"

Aithne shook her head. "The legal term is 'guardian'. Adopting you would mean that we would be considered family in the eyes of the law, whether that's Republic law or some planetary law on the Outer Rim. You'd still call me Aithne, and you could think of me however you like, but yeah, I'd be responsible for you to some extent."

Mission's face was carefully blank. "Would there be rules?"

Aithne nodded. "Yes. You'd have a curfew, Mission. I'd try to make sure you ate healthily, and there wouldn't be any cheating at Pazaak or picking the pockets of strangers. And I'd probably try to get you some type of formal education."

Mission's lekku twitched and a purple tinge appeared in her cheeks. "What for? I have all those books from Master Dorak, and I've learned enough on this ship to do just about anything I want to for the rest of my life!"

Aithne nodded. "It'd have to be a very specialized type of education," she said. "I'm still thinking about it. But it doesn't stop there. You'd have to have an allowance, too."

Mission opened her mouth to protest, then she looked at Aithne. "An allowance?"

"Yes. Definitely." Aithne took a breath. "And whenever you need someone to be there, I will be. I won't stop at being your guardian. I want to be your friend, too, Mission. We'll have a home. As surely as you'll be my family, I'll be yours, too. I'll teach you more of what I know, and I've no doubt that I'll learn from you, too."

Mission swallowed. "So when we talk adoption, we're talking rules. And education. But we'll also have a place, and we'll be together?"

Aithne nodded one last time, feeling a bit nervous. Mission was quiet a moment. "What about Carth?" she asked.

Aithne was taken aback. She felt herself turning red. Truth be told, she didn't know about Carth. He was the Republic's man, through and through. If she wasn't on good terms with the Republic, she couldn't see them having much of a future. And anyway, he had Dustil. It hurt to be so uncertain, but she couldn't lie to Mission. "What Carth does is up to him," she said finally. "Don't you dare ask him."

"You ask him, then," Mission challenged. Aithne looked away. "Look, Aithne," Mission said. "I think I'd like it, you being my guardian and all," she grinned. "At least, I could manage. But you and I would like it a whole lot better if Carth stuck around. You've loved him for like, ever. He loves you. He kissed you in front of the entire crew! Just ask him to stay and be done with it!" She looked down. "I mean, the geezer parents me already. You name it and he's lectured me on it. Might as well make it official."

Aithne's heart ached. "We'll see," she said. "I don't want to corner him into anything."

Mission snorted. "The man needs cornering, if you ask me."

"But you're in? I can adopt you?"

Mission smiled. "Sure, we can make it official. Aithne?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, too, alright? Thanks."

Aithne smiled at Mission and gave her a quick hug. Then she stood up. "Right. That's settled. You want to go play some Pazaak?"

"You want to lose?" Mission quipped, and the two walked together out of the cargo hold.

* * *

><p>FORN DADONNA POV<p>

Admiral Dadonna wasn't sure if she was more apprehensive or curious when she set out to meet the crew of the _Ebon Hawk_ with the honor guard. Vandar had been uneasy all morning, and there was certainly no denying that there was a great deal of mystery as to how the end of this whole war had come about. Forn and Master Vandar had been given the job of sorting everything out before it was time for medals and speeches. It was going to be a long day.

Nevertheless, she was very glad when Carth emerged from the freighter leading the way. He was a good man. He'd served under her for a time during the Mandalorian Wars. He'd even saved her life once. He smiled at her. He looked better than he had in years, she thought. Healthier. Happier. She surveyed the crew behind him.

They were a ragtag bunch. Of the group, Forn only recognized Carth and Bastila. She spied a Mandalorian, a teenage Twi'lek, and a sinister looking rust red droid among the company, along with a Wookiee, of all things. These, then, were the heroes of the Republic. There was also one more, she noticed belatedly. There was a woman standing just behind Bastila, in the shadows. She was dressed in civilian clothes: a simple green shirt and brown pants, and boots. The woman kept her eyes on her shoes, and Admiral Dadonna decided to ignore her for the time being.

Carth bowed, straightened, and saluted. "Admiral Dadonna," he said formally. "By your leave, one of our companions, Juhani, is gravely injured. We ask for transport and medical care for her."

Vandar nodded to two of the Jedi Knights with him. They entered the ship.

"Carth," Admiral Dadonna greeted the pilot warmly. "At ease, soldier. You and the crew of the _Ebon Hawk_ are all heroes, and we'll get to all that entails later." She looked down at Master Vandar. "But Master Vandar has said that there is much to tell me, and I confess that I am very confused as to how all of this came about."

"'All of this' meaning the end of the war?" Carth said, smiling a bit.

Forn frowned. "Exactly. It was our Fleet that destroyed the Star Forge, yet somehow I feel that we had very little to do with it." She looked at Bastila. "Last I was informed, that one there had gone to the Dark Side. Yet here she stands." She looked down at Vandar. "There seems to be a great deal of explaining to do, if we are to present the public with exactly what happened in that battle. We've arranged for quarters for your crew until we've sorted all this out."

"Sorted all this out." The voice was musical and clear. Forn looked up and saw that the woman in green had stood forth. She bowed. Beside Admiral Dadonna, Master Vandar tensed. Forn frowned. "Admiral Dadonna, what do you know?" the woman asked. Her eyes were strangely intense.

"For one, I've no idea who most of you are, or what your role in this was," the Admiral said, smiling wryly.

The woman in green, who the Admiral judged to be around twenty-nine years old, frowned. "That's going to make things difficult," she said quietly. Her eyes flicked to Master Vandar in sudden misgiving. "Where are we going now? We'd best begin at once."

"There's a pod waiting to take us to a conference room," Admiral Dadonna replied. She was a bit surprised by how this civilian seemed to be taking charge, and more than a little uncomfortable with Master Vandar's tension and uneasy silence. "For now, the ten…"

"Nine, Admiral," Carth said. He nodded at a short, old looking man following Master Vandar's Jedi out supervising a Jedi woman in a stretcher. They took the wounded woman away, and the short man joined the rest of the crew. He was dressed as a Jedi. Forn supposed he had been watching over the wounded Guardian. "Juhani should be able to rejoin us in a few days."

"Thank you Carth," the Admiral said with a nod. "The nine of you should come with me and Master Vandar. There will be an assistant there, of course, to take this down for the record, but I feel that a report just to the two of us would be best for now. The Senate has decided that as the commander for the Battle of the Star Forge, I am equipped to handle this task."

Forn looked to Carth to answer, but to her surprise the woman in green replied. "Very well, Admiral Dadonna. Lead on."

Forn and Master Vandar led the way to a shuttle. The crew of the _Ebon Hawk, _minus the Jedi Juhani, filed in behind them. Forn was interested to see that instead of walking ahead with her and Master Vandar, Carth fell back to walk beside the woman in green. Briefly, Admiral Dadonna toyed with the idea that perhaps Carth had not taken charge after Bastila's fall. Perhaps this woman, whoever she was, had taken charge instead. She heard a soft murmur of voices from their seats in the shuttle behind her.

"What's the problem?" she heard Carth ask the woman in a low voice. She heard the woman reply in a low voice, but couldn't make out what she said.

Carth seemed to be bothered by it, however. "Do you really think…" he began.

"Yes," the Admiral heard the woman reply, in an irritated tone, "but it's too late now. I chose my side, and now I have to live with it."

Forn didn't like the sound of this. She considered what she knew about the crew of the _Ebon Hawk_. How did this woman fit into the ragtag bunch? And why was she worried about being here? She was a hero, wasn't she?

The Admiral knew that Malak was dead. She knew that the Sith were scattered, mostly dead, but definitely leaderless and foundering. The Republic, at this point, would have little trouble either arresting, pardoning, or otherwise dealing with those that remained. She knew that Bastila had gone over to the Dark Side, but apparently had turned back in the middle of the battle of the Star Forge. She knew that someone, not Carth, and seemingly not Bastila either, had led this crew through the trouble of finding and reporting the Star Forge's hidden location to the Fleet. Forn knew a feat like that would have required considerable knowledge of the galaxy and of the Sith. At a casual glance she would have suspected the big Mandalorian, or maybe the old Jedi. But perhaps not. If it was this unknown woman instead, what did it mean?

As the Admiral thought, the shuttle wove through the heavy Coruscant traffic, and docked on the balcony of one of the capital's many business skyscrapers. Admiral Dadonna and Master Vandar disembarked and led the way to a long, well-lit conference table. A short, nervous man in glasses with a datapad took his place at the table between Forn and Master Vandar.

Admiral Dadonna pulled out her own pair of glasses, and placed them on her hawk-like nose. "Alright, then," she said, "Let's start with introductions. Who is everyone?"

Carth, seated at the Admiral's left, spoke up. "Canderous, of the Mandalorian clan Ordo, is the man next to Master Vandar," he began, indicating the big Mandalorian. The old Jedi, it turned out, was known as Jolee Bindo, and he had spent much of the last two decades locked up in a hut in the Kashyyyk Shadowlands. The Wookiee Zaalbar, on the other hand, had been exiled on Taris. The sinister looking protocol droid was designated HK-47, and the cute little astromech was T3-M4. He beeped cheerily at his introduction. The teenage Twi'lek was a refugee from Taris named Mission Vao. Carth mentioned that she had been exceedingly helpful in stealth and slicing operations along the journey. Admiral Dadonna needed no introduction for Bastila, of course. But when Carth came to the last member of the party, the tall woman about whom Forn was so curious, he paused, looking uncomfortable.

"This…this is Aithne Morrigan," he said awkwardly, stumbling over her name and giving no background information like he had for the rest.

Forn zeroed in on his hesitation. The woman in question- Aithne, she supposed- made a face. She looked very surprised, somewhat touched, but also a little disapproving of her introduction.

She noticed the Admiral looking at her, and she, too, shifted uncomfortably. Forn wondered what other names 'Aithne Morrigan' had gone by in her time.

When neither Carth nor Aithne moved to say anything, though, she nodded. She repeated the names verbatim. "Alright," she said. "What went on then?"

Bastila moved to speak. "I think the story begins with me, Admiral," she said. But she bit her lip and looked sideways at Aithne. Master Vandar nodded, urging Bastila on. "You see, the _Endar Spire_ was escorting me across the stars to…"

"Wait." Beside Forn, Master Vandar went stock still. Aithne Morrigan was holding up a hand. She closed her eyes, and the Admiral got the sense that she fought a brief, fierce battle with herself. But finally, she nodded. "Pardon me, Bastila, Admiral Dadonna, Master Vandar, but the story doesn't begin there."

Admiral Dadonna refocused on her with laser intensity. "Oh?"

Aithne shook her head. She took in a long, rattling breath. "No," she said with finality. "The long, complicated version of the story that makes no sense begins with Bastila." She squeezed Bastila's shoulder, beside her, and nodded at Carth. "I appreciate your efforts to protect me, but if the Admiral is going to be satisfied, she'll have to know everything." She nodded at Master Vandar, and Forn saw her face go hard. "He does."

Forn was a little uneasy to see Master Vandar gripping the table so hard with his stubby claws that it creaked. He looked…he looked guilty, she decided. And afraid, too. What could make a Jedi Master look like that?

Aithne stared at the diminutive Jedi Master. She let out a short, mirthless bark of a laugh. "Believe me, _Master_, I have thought up half a dozen lies, all of them better than yours were." She raised her gaze at last to Admiral Dadonna, who was now all but shaking with interest. "When you contacted the _Ebon Hawk _during the battle you asked Carth if he'd taken over from Bastila when she fell. Admiral, Bastila was never in charge of our mission. Bastila was only in charge of handling _me, _while I led the quest for the Star Forge. This was the state of affairs when we left Dantooine seven months ago, and it was that way until Bastila was captured a month and a half ago, at which time things went very wrong, and I took complete control."

She paused, allowing the Admiral some time to process this. Forn maintained eye contact with Aithne Morrigan- if that was actually her name. She didn't think it was, but she had a feeling that Aithne Morrigan's story was about to come rushing out. She waited.

Master Vandar, beside the Admiral, closed his eyes. Aithne smiled at him. It wasn't a nice smile. It was mocking, with a very angry edge. "You sense it, don't you?" Aithne asked him quietly. "You took this gamble when you allowed me to live and reconstructed me a false identity. The whole thing could have blown up in your face a hundred different times. It almost did. I'm not exactly happy with you and the Council." Morrigan was keeping her voice calm, but Forn heard a deep anger beneath the surface. "But you've gotten off pretty well, I think. I know who I am. I found out a month and a half ago, when Bastila was captured."

Forn had become an admiral so she wouldn't be left out of the loop. "Pardon me, I'm sure," she said acidly. "But I haven't been privileged to know the risk the Jedi took, or how, you, Morrigan, are supposed to be the key to this entire thing. If you'd explain?"

Aithne turned to face Forn Dadonna. Her face was hard and challenging. "I was Revan," she said. "That explain it, Admiral?" The scribe let out a little gasp and dropped his datapad. Aithne ignored him. Now that she'd finally spoken, her words came out in a rush. They raced to get out of her mouth. "When Bastila was trying to capture me, about two years ago, Malak fired upon my ship. I was dying, but Bastila saved me and brought me to the Jedi Council. They made a plan. I had all the knowledge your forces needed to end the war. The only problem was that my mind had been nearly destroyed. They healed it. Wrongly. They gave me a false identity, dummy memories, the works. Until last month, I really believed I was Aithne Morrigan, an orphaned scout from Deralia that had been press-ganged into service on the _Endar Spire_. The truth was they had assigned me there when I had healed enough to be useful to them. Bastila was in command of the _Endar Spire_. Due to the Force link she had built with me when she saved my life, I was supposed to remember, over time, how to get to and destroy the Star Forge. Now, it didn't work like the Jedi planned. The _Spire_ crashed. But other than that, their plan pretty much worked like a charm. The only thing they didn't count on was me finding out." She bowed from her seat. "That, Admiral Dadonna, is the short version."

The silence was as thick as butter. Forn Dadonna's brain whirled at a million miles a second. Revan was supposed to be dead. She should be dead. But…if this woman spoke the truth, there was no mystery of the battle of the Star Forge. Of course Revan would know how to find the space station. It had been her base of operations. She didn't take her eyes off Aithne, but Forn finally mustered command of her voice. "Is it true?" she asked Master Vandar.

"It is," he said. She looked at him. His voice was level, but his face was a study.

Forn shook her head, trying to assimilate the information. No wonder 'Aithne Morrigan' possessed such command. She was probably the most dangerous, brilliant woman in the galaxy. This young, pretty woman in her twenties, unarmed and dressed like a civilian, was a mass murderer and a traitor twice over. She had also saved the galaxy. Again.

Her fear, too, made perfect sense now. Had Admiral Dadonna been in Revan's place now, she would have been a few light-years past the Unknown Regions before she had to face the Republic. She stared. "Why…why are you here?" she asked, completely flabbergasted. It was the only question she could think of at the moment.

"Sitting in the heart of the Republic confessing my sins?" Revan said ironically. "I admit, I could be at the head of an army of Sith, trying to wreak vengeance on the Jedi for what they did to me. It also occurred to me that I could be halfway across the galaxy by now, trying to escape the inevitable retribution of the Republic for my crimes beyond number."

The Admiral laughed weakly and rubbed her temples. "So, you do understand what's at stake here? What- what possessed you to come here?" _And what the hell am I going to do with you? _she thought. She had to admire the courage of the woman, sitting here making jokes in the face of such peril. Forn Dadonna was a strong-willed, brilliant commander herself. She was an Admiral in the Republic Fleet. But she had to admit that such a feat would have been beyond her. Revan had a bit of an overwhelming personality.

Revan shrugged. "Look. Admiral. For the most part, all I know about Revan is what I've been told. I certainly have no desire to take over the galaxy. You know three weeks ago you won the final battle of the war. You know Bastila, despite turning to the Dark Side briefly, is here now. You know that Malak is dead. Now you know how."

The Admiral looked at Bastila. The Jedi that had won the Republic's battle for them swallowed. "Everything that has been done is her doing," she said quietly.

Revan inclined her head. "I have carried out my task from the Council," she told Master Vandar. "I don't think the Republic will have any trouble from now on handling the Sith." She looked at Forn again. "But the people are another matter. Without any information, whether it is true or false, the rumors and distrust will wreak nearly as much havoc as that Sith Fleet. You have to tell the public something. Otherwise the holes the Sith ate out of you will just fester and grow until you topple anyways, Malak or no Malak.

"The Republic is in sore need of reform, true. But at heart," she looked at Carth with a smile, "At heart it has better principles and structure than the Sith. I don't know. Maybe nearly being taken over will make the Senate consider the faulty policies that gave strength the Sith movement and drew the people away from the Republic. I think you deserve a chance, anyways."

"Well, thank you very much," Forn said, a bit sarcastically. It rather felt that Revan was handing the Republic their authority like a gift. She sighed. It was irking, but given that it was Revan speaking, she was more inclined to be grateful than not.

Revan smiled. "Pardon me, I only mean to state my reasons for submitting to your judgment."

Vandar looked slightly surprised. Revan laughed at the expression on his face. "What? You're going to have to do _something_ with me."

"What do you see my options as being?" Admiral Dadonna asked stiffly. She tried not to show exactly how eager she was to have this answered. Honestly, what did you do with a person like Revan?

Revan sighed and steepled her fingers. "You could tell the public the truth," she said. "They love a good redemption story. We could go ahead with the victory parties and the awards, count all my past offenses under my forgotten identity, and let me off scot-free. I'd be a Jedi among Jedi, held in honor for the rest of my life, and at the Order's beck and call the rest of my days." She paused. "That is a stupid idea."

"Oh?"

Revan nodded, looking down at her hands. "You know who I am, both of you. I don't remember being much about Revan, sure, and I certainly don't have her goals in mind, but she's still a big part of me. Her personality. Her motivations. When you look at me Master Vandar, you still see that kid who defied the Order and went up against the Mandalorians, don't you?"

Vandar nodded bleakly. "I do."

"And you, Admiral Dadonna," Revan said, turning those piercing eyes onto Forn. "Now that you've put this face with that name, you see the woman that started this whole war and nearly conquered the Republic, don't you?"

The teenage Twi'lek, Mission Vao, halfway stood up. "Aithne!" she hissed. "Do you want to go to jail or something?"

"Hush, Mission," Bastila said.

The Admiral looked at Revan. She didn't know what to think, honestly. She'd always imagined Revan to be a man, for one thing, and nowhere near as young as she actually was. It gave her no trouble, after hearing Revan talk, to imagine her as a formidable opponent. But a tyrant and a monster? She couldn't quite comprehend that. "I know some people will see that," she answered carefully at last.

Revan nodded. "Many in the Senate will look at me and see a threat, though I no longer consider myself one. To widely name me as Revan and pardon me completely would only make them angry and nervous. Besides," she said, looking sadly at Master Vandar. "I can't do it. I can't be a Jedi. I can't follow your Code and follow your rules and orders, especially after what you did to me. My entire life is a lie, now. I don't know who I tortured, what planets I torched, what wrongs I committed. And because you took that from me, I cannot begin to make them right."

"Revan…" Master Vandar began.

Revan cut him off. "Call me Aithne," she said. "I may forgive you, in time, but I can never forget. And I cannot be a part of your Order. Do you understand?"

Master Vandar nodded. "It is a grievous loss to our Order, all the same," he said simply. Revan inclined her head.

Forn considered for a moment, even more baffled than ever. "So I am not to recommend to the Senate that you go free," she said. "What? Do you, like Ms. Vao asks, wish to be incarcerated? It seems to me that you have also done much good since you became Aithne Morrigan."

"She has, Admiral Dadonna," Carth said, with feeling. Murmurs of agreement sounded around the table.

Revan took a deep breath. "If you really wanted to you could put me in jail, or even kill me for my crimes against the Republic. It would be well within your rights, or the Senate's, should you surrender the matter to them. But I would really rather you didn't."

"Surrender the matter to the Senate? Or put you in jail or kill you?"

"Any and all of the above," Revan said.

"It would be just as stupid as letting her go after letting the world know who she is," Carth put in.

"Oh?" the Admiral asked. "And why is that?" Privately, she agreed, but she wished to hear the pilot's reasoning.

"It's common knowledge," Carth began, "in the Fleet at least, that the _Ebon Hawk_ and her crew saved the galaxy. You know how soldiers talk; you've been in the military your entire life. The entire galaxy is watching Coruscant at the moment. If you suddenly go around throwing galactic heroes in jail, whether or not you make it common knowledge, there's bound to be a riot."

"And you wouldn't just be able to lock Morrigan up," the Mandalorian grunted. Forn looked at him in surprise. It was the first time he had spoken. "It'd be all of us. Or do you really think the rest of us will just let you take her away?"

"Canderous," Revan said. But Forn saw the HK model's red eyes gleaming, and Mission and the Wookiee were nodding.

"Would you fight us then, if we determined that Revan ought to be punished for her crimes?" Admiral Dadonna demanded.

"Excuse me, Admiral," said the teenager, "But we would. All of us. We just fought to get rid of bullies that killed and threw people in jail for no good reason. And don't you sometimes offer community service for crimes, or whatever? To my way of thinking, Aithne's done more than enough community service, saving the galaxy and all, whatever she did when she was Revan, you know?"

The beginnings of an idea occurred to the Admiral, but she looked around at the rest of the table. "Would all of you fight?" she asked the crew of the _Ebon Hawk_ gently. "As far as I know, you have committed no crime."

Jolee Bindo nodded. "I've gone up against the Order and the Republic more than once in my time," he said. "What's one more time?"

Forn looked at Bastila questioningly. The Jedi-girl hesitated, looked at Revan, then spoke. "I would not support the Republic, should they choose to imprison Aithne now," she confessed.

Admiral Dadonna looked at Carth, one of the most loyal men in the Fleet. To her surprise, his eyes were blazing.

"Admiral," he said. "I love the Republic. I've served and supported them my entire life. But to punish Aithne Morrigan, hell, even to punish Revan, after all she's been through, after all she's done? It would be wrong. I'm with Canderous and Mission on this one."

"Such is your loyalty to Revan?" Master Vandar ventured.

Forn frowned. There was more than loyalty to the woman in Carth's face, at least.

"Guys…" Revan began.

"Shut up," Mission advised. "If we want to go down with you, you'll let us!"

The entire crew was tense. Forn Dadonna shook her head, making her decision. "I don't think you understand," she told the Twi'lek. "No one needs to go down. I don't think we had finished covering all of our options here. Canderous Ordo, I believe, was just offering another consequence for us to consider should we choose to prosecute your friend. Right?"

Carth began to smile. Canderous glared, "No, not ex…"

Forn Dadonna cut him off before she had to arrest him for treason. "Right. And your input is appreciated. Now. Ms. Morrigan. Other than punishment or complete pardon, had you any alternative solutions to offer?"

Revan seemed a bit taken aback by Admiral Dadonna's change in demeanor. "Um…I've sort of been making it up as I go along," she admitted. "I wasn't sure coming in if you'd know I was Revan or not."

Forn grimaced. She certainly hadn't, at that. "I can think of two more possible solutions," she said. "First, a lie. I have a few contacts in the secret service. You get to know people when you become an Admiral. I could tell a few discreet people, and together with the Jedi Council we could fabricate a story that covers all the bases, satisfies the people, and gets you off the hook with the Senate and the general public."

Revan's face twisted in distaste.

"I don't like it much either," Admiral Dadonna admitted.

"It feels too much like what the Jedi did to me," Revan explained. "What's the other option?"

"Tell the truth," the Admiral said. "I've been given authority to deal with you. We can let the public know who you are. We can let the Senate know. I can tell the whole story. Do you have proof of her memory loss, Master Vandar?"

"We have records, yes," he said, stunned. "We copied them to the Great Library. Records of her brainwave patterns before and after the firing upon Revan's flagship; before and after the…operation."

"We'll need those to prove she is indeed a changed person," Admiral Dadonna went on, warming up to her plan. "Now I agree we cannot just let Revan, the dangerous Sith Lord, off the hook entirely merely because she lost her memory and saved the galaxy. Force, no."

Carth had started to grin. "What do you suggest, Admiral?" he asked.

"For her offenses there must be consequences, Carth. But we must remember that she is a Jedi, and not technically under Republic jurisdiction."

"That is true," said Master Vandar, beginning to brighten up. Revan, on the other hand, opened her mouth to protest. Forn cut her off.

"Master Vandar, I'm going to have to suggest you deal harshly with this one," she said gravely. "You'll have to drum her out of the Order, at least."

Revan looked nonplussed, but Bastila began to smile, too. "Oh, at least. And the Republic will not be able to hire her for service in the military, either, will they, Admiral?"

"I should think not," the Admiral said severely. "Revan, at the head of our armies? The Senate would never stand for it. No. I think she ought to be forbidden from service. And even that won't be enough, will it, Ms. Vao? She should do _community service_ to atone for her crimes. Maybe rebuild the worlds the Sith destroyed. Taris…Telos," she shot a knowing glance at Carth, who looked away, but managed not to blush. "Revan? Is this agreeable to you?"

She was speechless for a moment. "Admiral…" she began. Abruptly, she stood and walked around the table. She seized both of Forn's hands in her slender, strong ones. "Can you do it? Really?"

Forn Dadonna looked at her, serious. "You've done the Republic a great service, Aithne Morrigan," she said quietly. "You've killed Darth Malak and destroyed the Star Forge so it is never a problem again. For that, and also because of your actions during the Mandalorian Wars, I think you ought to have a chance at what you seem to want so badly: making things right. Away from the Jedi, and away from war. But you realize that this means no medal, no honor. This is a judgment, for all I think it is the one you would like most of all."

Revan nodded. "I understand. Thank you, Admiral." She squeezed Forn's hands, and Forn squeezed back, and as she looked into the eyes of the former Dark Lord of the Sith, she found that she had made a new friend.

Revan released Forn's hands and walked back around to her seat. "Revan," the Admiral said. "For your crimes against the Republic I hereby discharge you from the Republic Fleet and sentence you to a life of rebuilding the things you have destroyed. What have you to say?"

Revan bowed her head. "I shall accept the consequences of my actions, and I thank you for your mercy." She shot Admiral Dadonna a smile.

Forn nodded brusquely. "Right. I have to present this exactly the right way to the Senate and to the people. For that to work I'm going to need to know the entire story."

"Right, Admiral," Carth said. "Remember, though, you asked for it."

"It was like this…" Revan began.


	46. From the Telosian Lunar Settlement

**Disclaimer: The universe STILL isn't mine. The characters STILL aren't, either. But where the story's gone and going, that I can claim.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Forty-Six<p>

DUSTIL POV

The entire moon was probably in the cantina to watch the transmission, Dustil thought. The news had gone out about a month and a half ago: Malak was dead, the Sith had scattered, and the war was over. The Republic had won. No one knew exactly how it had happened, but word was that the Republic transmission being broadcast all over the galaxy was going to explain today what had happened that day when the challenge of the Sith Empire had gone down in flames.

Everybody wanted to know. Dustil figured he had more personal interest than anyone, though. They said a freighter had been mixed up in all of it. A freighter stolen from the Exchange boss on Taris. A freighter known as the _Ebon Hawk. _

Dustil had been surprised, of course, when he'd found out that the war was over all of a sudden. When the rumors had started trickling out, though, he hadn't been surprised at all that the ship his father, Bastila Shan, and Aithne Morrigan had been on had been in the thick of things.

After Korriban Dustil had gone to Telos, like he'd said. His buddies had jumped ship at Nar Shaddaa. They were eager to lose themselves in the scum there; they wanted to forget the Sith and the war and just live, for a while. Dustil couldn't. He'd made a promise to his father, and anyway, something inside drove him on. The Sith had still been a valid threat, and after Selene…well, he wasn't going to just opt out and let them lie and burn their way through the galaxy. He guessed that his father would eventually show up, and sure as hell the quickest way to the thick of things was along with his goody-good father and his Jedi friends. It would have been a very bad idea to join up back on Korriban; the Sith would've been on all their backs before even Aithne Morrigan could activate her lightsaber.

Still, the past few months working to clean up a weapons shop after hours on the temporary Telosian lunar base, and going home to a slummy one-room apartment off the docks, Dustil hadn't been able to suppress a wish that things had panned out a little differently for him. For sure he didn't wish he'd stayed a Sith, but at least they had eaten better in the Academy on Korriban. And he couldn't help but think that there might have been some feasible way that he could have switched sides when the old man had found him there, and regret that he hadn't found it.

Dustil had felt it when the Star Forge fell: a great shift in the Force. He had felt the deaths, the desperation of the Republic soldiers as the Sith shot them out of the sky, and heard the screams of hatred and despair in his mind when the tide turned in the battle, when the Sith ships began to burn instead. There had been a last cry of defiance, and then a great weight seemed to lift off the galaxy, like a veil or shroud had been removed. He hadn't known what it all was about at the time. But when the surprising news came out that the war was over, that the Sith factory the Star Forge had been found and burned and that Malak had been killed, he had felt in his spirit the truth of the report.

Ever since, Dustil had been practically haunting the cantina every night, hanging onto every word of the news broadcasts on the holos. The bartender and waitresses knew and greeted him by name every afternoon from noon to six, and then after he got off work from midnight to around two in the morning. It had come out pretty early on that the _Ebon Hawk_ had been crucially involved in both the discovery and destruction of the Star Forge, but to Dustil's immense frustration, there hadn't been _any_ in-detail reports for over a month and a half.

It had been established that the _Ebon Hawk_'s ten-man crew had all survived, at least, so Dustil knew his father had survived. They'd been set up in a residence on Coruscant, but the swarm of reporters that had stationed themselves around the house had been unable to extract any information from any of the crew. He'd seen the representative they'd sent out on the holos: a scary-looking protocol droid with an enormous blaster rifle. He couldn't recall Aithne or his father mentioning the droid back on Korriban. The droid had gone on and on about battles he'd fought in, in gory and explicit detail, but as far as Dustil could make out, he really hadn't been involved in anything crucial, and all the HK-47 unit would do otherwise was lament the fact that someone he referred to only as "master" had forbidden him to use his blaster rifle on the crowd. Funnily enough, the reporters had stopped trying so hard a couple days after the crew had sent the droid out.

Dustil drummed his fingers on the cantina countertop. Would that holo broadcast never come on? He growled at the chattering people around him. Didn't they care? This was important! Just then, though, the Republic seal appeared over the holo transmission, and the trumpets sounded in a flourish. Everyone in the Telos cantina turned towards the field. The Bith stopped playing, and the noise quieted to a murmur. _How had the Sith surrendered? _Dustil rolled his eyes at some of the opinions of the idiots in the crowd. Malak had exploded from the force of his own evil. There had never been a Sith threat, and the Republic was spreading vicious propaganda to increase taxes. Dustil snorted. Yeah. Right.

The cameras zoomed in on a balcony, and a uniformed and decorated woman emerged from a building, walking under an ornamental arch. She was accompanied by a few sophisticated-looking Jedi. The text on the holo pointed out the woman as an Admiral Forn Dadonna. Dustil nodded; his father had told him stories about her. A good commander, apparently, and a good woman. The most important Jedi in attendance seemed to be a little green creature known as Vandar, a master that had escaped Malak's destruction of Dantooine. Dustil took in a breath as the crew of the _Ebon Hawk_ emerged.

First came that droid. A few murmurs and some laughter sounded in the cantina. Dustil scowled. He still wanted to know where the hell that thing had come from. Next the camera focused on a beeping astromech, and then a Wookiee. Dustil remembered his dad had mentioned _them; _the names escaped him just now. Next, limping slightly on what appeared to be a newly attached prosthesis came a tall Cathar woman. She was dressed in Jedi robes.

Dustil smiled at the next person through the balcony archway. It was that old Jedi he'd met back on Korriban: Jolee Bindo. He smirked. Dressed like a slave and infiltrating a Sith Academy, Bindo had looked much more at his ease than he did now in formal Jedi attire at an honorary ceremony.

That made five, Dustil counted. Five out of ten. The next guy had to be that Mandalorian the old man had mentioned, he thought. The merc whose ship his father was flying. He was bareheaded, but the scars and armor he wore attested without question to his warrior's heritage.

"A Mandalorian being rewarded by the Republic," snorted a blonde woman a few feet away from Dustil. "Why, his kind were tearing up the galaxy not ten years ago! Thugs and murderers, the lot of them. They ought to shoot him where he stands."

Dustil's fists clenched. "Right," he called over to her, "Lady, when it comes to allies, beggars can't be choosers. The Sith would've won if the Republic hadn't been willing to use everyone that offered to help, whether or not they met your meticulous moral standard."

"What do you know about it, boy?" the woman demanded.

Dustil's eyes didn't leave the screen. "Probably about as much as she does," he said, smirking, as a well-dressed, well-armed, but clearly teenaged Twi'lek came through the archway. It had to be that Tarisian refugee: the stealth op and tech.

The woman forgot her indignation. "My goodness, she's just a child," she remarked. "I can't imagine what the Republic was thinking."

"Hell of a diverse group," the bartender, Yooba, agreed. "Wouldn't be too surprised if a bantha came through that door next."

"Wonder who their leader was?" someone else asked.

Dustil grinned. "Woman by the name of Aithne Morrigan," he said. "You're welcome. And _that—" _he swallowed, blinked suddenly, and cut off. His father was there. He'd known that his dad had made it; there'd been no word of any deaths, but there he was, and Dustil realized that he'd been worried nonetheless that his father would just disappear again, go off to fight another war and leave Dustil cleaning up shop on Telos. But he was fine. He stood tall, in a ridiculously decorated formal Republic military uniform. He was alive, uninjured, and a Republic hero. Again. Which meant that he'd be coming back. Dustil didn't know exactly how he felt about that.

The woman that immediately followed his father had to be Bastila Shan. Dustil hadn't ever seen her, but she matched the description on the wanted datapad he still remembered. About five-six; around twenty two or twenty three years old. Blue eyes, brown hair. Dustil heard a few murmurs around the cantina. It figured a few people would have heard of _her. _She had killed Darth Revan, after all. Maybe Malak, too, since she was here.

Aithne was the last one through the archway. Dustil frowned. For such a formal occasion, she was dressed incredibly casually. She wasn't even wearing Jedi robes. And while she lined up next to the others on the platform beside Admiral Dadonna, it was impossible for Dustil, with his trained-Sith observation skills, not to notice that she stood a little apart, a little back from the others. She looked different from when they'd met on Korriban. Harder, more serious, and he thought- a little sadder, too.

Then Admiral Dadonna stepped up to the platform. The cantina quieted entirely as she began to speak.

The beginning of the story she told Dustil already knew. The old man had told him that the crew of the _Ebon Hawk_ had been flying around the galaxy searching for Star Maps. Dustil had known, too, about the assassins the Sith had sent after them. He'd almost been one.

Admiral Dadonna told the rest of the story now in long, eloquent words and phrases. At the end of the Star Map quest, the crew of the _Ebon Hawk_ had found the Star Forge, the alien factory Malak had been using to manufacture all his ships and operations. The crew had reported the Star Forge's location to the Republic Fleet, and there had been a battle.

In the battle the _Ebon Hawk_ had, with a few fighters of Jedi Knights, penetrated the Star Forge and turned the tide of the battle in favor of the Republic. One of their number had killed Malak himself. The Fleet had been able to knock the Star Forge out of orbit. It had fallen to a fiery doom and a planetary grave. The Sith were scattered and beaten, and it was all because of the _Ebon Hawk_, and her crew.

Then Admiral Dadonna went through and recognized each member of the crew, calling them by name and listing their achievements.

Dustil frowned when she got to the Twi'lek kid, that Mission Vao. Apparently, Vao's most notable service to the cause had been assisting the crew to escape when they had been captured by the Sith ship _Leviathan. _Dustil swallowed as the cantina erupted into murmurs. _Leviathan_ had been Saul Karath's flagship. Saul Karath had been the man that had ordered the attack on Telos: the man responsible for his mother's death and his own kidnap by the Sith. Dustil remembered that his father had sworn revenge on Karath, and wondered if he had gotten it. He grit his teeth. He hoped so.

"Hey, Dustil?" said Yooba.

"Huh?" Dustil said. "I mean, yeah. What do you need?"

"Your surname's Onasi, isn't it?"

Dustil shifted. "Yeah."

"That guy up there, the pilot. His name's Carth Onasi. Apparently he's from here. Helped save Bastila from Taris and got the whole crew going, and landed 'em on the Star Forge in the end. He's your pop, ain't he?"

The people in the cantina shifted their gaze from the holo broadcast. Dustil felt suddenly uncomfortable. "Um…yes, Carth Onasi is my father."

The man beside Dustil clapped him on the back. "Your dad's a hero, kid! Now I know why you've been hanging around here so much. You look like him. Bet you're proud, aren't you?'

Dustil didn't know exactly what to say. He…he was proud of his father. Carth Onasi was a good man. Always had been. So good he couldn't help from rushing into war after war, no matter how much Dustil's mom had missed him, no matter how much Dustil had wished his dad could've come to Career day at school, so all the guys would know exactly how amazing his father was. Still, Dustil guessed that his father had come to Korriban despite the risk. He'd kept Dustil from keeping company with a bunch of liars and murderers. That was something, at least. Dustil shrugged, and the man turned away.

The admiral had finished going on about Bastila and her Battle Meditation. "These heroes," she was saying, "have well-earned their reward. Each of them shall receive the Cross of Glory, the highest honor the Republic can bestow, for services rendered ending the war." There was overwhelming applause, both in the cantina and played over the speakers all the way from Coruscant, as Admiral Dadonna hung medals around the necks of the crew, even the droids.

Dustil didn't clap. Something was wrong. He realized Aithne wasn't getting a medal. The admiral hadn't mentioned a thing about her. Hadn't she led the mission? She had, hadn't she? What was up? As Admiral Dadonna stepped back up to the podium, though, Dustil distinctly saw Aithne Morrigan square her shoulders, as if preparing for a blow.

"Yes," the Admiral said, "These heroes: Bastila Shan, Carth Onasi, Mission Vao, Canderous Ordo, Jolee Bindo, Guardian Juhani, the Wookiee Zaalbar, and the droids T3-M4 and HK-47 deserve all praise, and we will forever be grateful, and honor their names. But they did not achieve this great task on their own. These were led on their mission. Aithne Morrigan, stand forth!"

"You mentioned her, didn't you, kid?" Yooba said, turning to look at Dustil. "How'd you know she led them? I thought she was a guard or something, dressed like she is."

Dustil shook his head. "Shh!"

* * *

><p>It had been hours since the broadcast had gone off, and the Telosian lunar cantina was still packed with people wildly debating Admiral Dadonna's revelation of the true identity of Malak's killer and the savior of the Republic, and her subsequent sentence.<p>

Dustil sat in the corner by himself, cradling his third drink. The waitress, Geri, had noticed his shock after the announcement and bustled him off and fetched him something. Dustil didn't know what it was, but it was strong. He was still underage, under Telos law, but he guessed Yooba knew this was a special occasion, and by the Force, he wasn't going to complain.

He shook his head yet again. Revan. The lady on Korriban had turned out to be Revan. Hindsight really was twenty-twenty, Dustil thought. He felt like he should've been able to _tell_, somehow. He'd been a Sith. Back there at the Academy, she'd said, _I think I'm better at this than pretty much anyone_. Yeah. No kidding.

Aithne Morrigan had made a big impression on Dustil back on Korriban. Her compassion had contrasted so sharply with her ruthlessness. He'd seen how completely calculating and capable she could be, but she'd still been so _very vulnerable, _too. He'd liked her. A lot. He'd seen her love for his father, his father's increasing attachment to her, and he'd gone so far as to _approve _it. And the lady was Darth Revan, by the Force! Queen of Evil!

Dustil wondered how his father had taken it whenever it had all come out after _Leviathan_. How had _she_ felt? Of course, the whole Star Map quest and incredible training rate made _complete_ sense now. And why Malak had been so afraid. Damn it, _Dustil_ was a little afraid, now.

Sure, he got it. People changed. Especially when their brains had been wiped by the Jedi Council. But…_Revan_. Darth Revan!

She'd been stripped of her place in the Jedi Order and forbidden to use the lightsaber. She had been banned from service in the Republic military, and denied the Cross of Glory. For her heroism this past year as 'Aithne Morrigan', Revan was not being killed or imprisoned for her crimes against the Republic. Instead, she was being sentenced to a lifetime of rebuilding the planets she had destroyed.

About half the cantina was of the opinion that the Republic hadn't been nearly harsh enough. The blonde lady that had been going on about Canderous Ordo was still in the Pazaak den ranting about how they ought to have thrown Revan into some black pit at the end of the universe and let her rot for all time there.

Geri and the guy that had congratulated Dustil for being the son of Carth Onasi were outraged, too, but for the opposite reason. Along with the other half of the cantina, _they _were of the opinion that Revan oughtn't to have been penalized at all for her crimes. They railed against her expulsion from the Jedi Order and declared their intention to contact the Republic and ask that she might receive the Cross of Glory, too. After all, _she_ had been the one to take down Malak. No one seemed happy with Revan's identity and sentencing.

Dustil didn't know what he thought. All he could think of was the remorse Revan had shown back on Korriban after she'd murdered Lashowe and the trouble she had gone through for him and his father. And he couldn't get it out of his head that not a single one of Aithne's- damn it, he just couldn't put the name 'Revan' with the personality of the woman he'd met- not one of her companions had looked the slightest bit bothered by her sentencing. They weren't all blank-faced Jedi. He'd looked towards his father, especially. The old man had looked…Dustil thought he might have looked a little excited, actually. It didn't make sense. Aithne herself had accepted Admiral Dadonna's harsh words without complaint or defense. She'd bowed when that Master Vandar had expelled her from the Order and calmly informed the crowd that she'd already relinquished her lightsaber. And though on the holo the abuse some of the Coruscant crowd had hurled at her could be clearly heard, Aithne had taken it with equanimity. Dustil didn't get it. If he'd done even a fraction of what she'd done for the Republic, and they'd treated him like they were treating her, he couldn't have stood for it.

_What happens now? _The Republic was done with the crew of the _Ebon Hawk_, but Dustil knew it could be months before they made it to Telos. If they even decided to come at all. Loose ends had to be tied up. And, well, Dustil's dad had never been around before. He'd said he regretted, but Dustil guessed he'd just see. Would he come with Aithne? Would she even be allowed?

* * *

><p>The very next day Sergeant Azle called Dustil to the base, though, the center of the Telosian lunar settlement and the hub of Republic operations. Dustil was escorted to the Sergeant by two soldiers. The sergeant was a short, gray-haired woman in her fifties. She greeted Dustil with a firm handshake when he was brought to her.<p>

"Yooba down at the cantina told us where we could find you," she said. "Our soldiers have been trying to track you down for a couple weeks now."

Dustil froze. Did they know that he used to be a Sith? Was he going to be arrested, or killed? But Sergeant Azle smiled at him.

"We've found you now, though. My assistant is putting the link to Coruscant through. Someone wants to talk to you."

Dustil was dumbstruck. A call? He hadn't expected that. He felt…grateful. Happy. It was weird. Very weird. The holo interface in the center of the base beeped, and an image of Dustil's dad appeared.

"Dustil! Good, you made it. I was worried that something might have happened to you."

"Father," Dustil greeted him. "Yeah, I'm here. I'm fine. I'm working at Ipsi's weapons shop on the lunar base here. I have an apartment. I- uh- I saw the broadcast last night. Congratulations on the medal and all."

"I'm just glad it's over," Carth said. "We're wrapping things up here on Coruscant. The ship has to be dealt with, and pretty much everyone has to decide where they're going now. I know, though. Dustil, I promise you, I will be there as soon as I can."

Dustil looked at the image of his father. He nodded, and smiled a bit. "I know, Dad. Um...you coming alone?"

Carth shifted. "You mean, is Aithne coming with me?"

Dustil nodded, somehow relieved to hear his father calling Revan 'Aithne'. "Yeah."

Carth looked very troubled. "We…we haven't talked about it. I'd like her to. Dustil- I'd like her to stay. I promised her that we could have a future together, but…in the end it's going to be up to her."

Dustil frowned. "Thanks for contacting me. I'll be here. Um…good luck. With Aithne, I mean."

Carth nodded. He turned to face Sergeant Azle. "Thank you, Sergeant. I'll be seeing you soon."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yeah. So this chapter is ENTIRELY new. Originally I'd framed this part of the story (the ceremony and public Revan-reveal) in third person omniscient. Then I thought how much more interesting it would be to take a hike to Telos IV and hop into Dustil's head to see what he was thinking. I hope I've written him realistically. I imagine he's pretty confused at this point, but trying his absolute best to do what's right. Still, he has some guilt, and a lot of anger and puzzlement. **

**Please tell me what you think. **

**May the Force Be With You,**

**LMSharp**


	47. Tying Up Loose Ends

**Disclaimer: Here the plot is mine. But still I leave the credit to Bioware. Without the game I'd never have been able to come up with this happily ever after.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Forty-Seven<p>

CARTH POV

Carth signed off the holo-interface. He was relieved to find Dustil safe on Telos. That was one thing taken care of, at least. Dustil had said he'd wait. Carth could rest easy on that account: Dustil never lied. Carth walked over to the window and opened the blinds just a little. The shouts of the reporters rose again outside. They had gathered again there after the reward ceremony. Carth frowned. Perhaps they could send that crazy droid out again. He'd had a bit too much fun terrorizing the press last time, but at least he'd kept them at bay.

They'd stay for months if Aithne did. The Revan story was the biggest thing to hit the news since the start of the war. From what Carth could tell, most of the crew was planning to split up in the next week or so for just that reason.

Juhani had told them all this morning that the Jedi Council had assigned her a position here on Coruscant. Carth thought that she would do well. Juhani had sacrificed a lot for the cause, but he thought she was much more with it now than she had been at one time. The Jedi might say she was wiser.

Bastila, too, had been talking to the Jedi Council. They'd promoted her to a Jedi Knight, and offered her a position on Coruscant. She'd told Carth about it last night. She had also said, though, that she wasn't sure she was going to take it. Bastila still felt guilty about her brief fall to the Dark Side. She wouldn't talk about what she had done as Malak's apprentice, and she spent more time meditating than she ever had before. Carth guessed she was feeling uncertain about her ability to handle any strenuous assignment with the Jedi, or even to live up to their Code at all. Still, Bastila was smart enough, and he knew she'd have no shortage of Masters to help her now.

Mission had mentioned that Zaalbar wanted to return to Kashyyyk. There was still a lot of work to do on the Wookiee's homeworld, and Carth knew that old Freyyr had to want his help. He couldn't blame Zaalbar. He'd sworn to guard and protect Aithne for life, but Carth knew that Zaalbar and Aithne both recognized that Aithne got up to more trouble in a month than most people did in three lifetimes. And Zaalbar had been exiled for twenty-one years. No wonder he wanted to go home so badly.

Carth didn't think, though, that Zaalbar was going to take Mission with him. At least, Mission herself didn't seem to expect it. She seemed pretty confident about her future, but he hadn't heard a thing about it. Nor had he heard of Canderous', Jolee's, or Aithne's future plans.

Aithne's closed mouth worried him. He'd been party to many of her conversations with Admiral Dadonna over the past few weeks, where the two of them had worked out the parameters of her sentence. The admiral had been adamant that for all that Aithne would be forbidden to lead the Republic's armies, she in no way wanted to lose access to Aithne's brilliant military mind. Aithne would be liable to be called upon as a consultant by hundreds in the Fleet, and often.

The addition of the rebuilding clause complicated things. Aithne would be free to travel from ravaged world to ravaged world if she chose, so long as there was a Republic base nearby where she would be available to serve in an advisory capacity. About a week ago, Aithne had gone to Admiral Dadonna with a list of twelve prospective sites, and the Admiral had approved them.

But Carth didn't know where she planned to go or what she planned to do. All he knew was that she had informed all the crew this morning that there would be a final get-together for all of them: a luncheon, three days from now.

Just a few months ago, Aithne would have told Carth everything. What she thought about Zaalbar and Juhani's plans. Where she thought Bastila's head was right now, and if it worried her at all. What was going to happen to Mission. Where she was going and why. But Aithne hadn't talked to him about any of that. Admiral Dadonna had told him about the twelve sites she was looking at, or he wouldn't have even known about that.

She still joked around like she always did. Sometimes when they were walking places she'd take his hand for a moment. Sometimes when they got back to their Republic-issued residence she'd plop down next to him on the sofa and rest her head on his shoulder. But it never lasted long. She always pulled away, looking wary, and a little bit sad.

He thought it got worse every time he'd been talking to Admiral Dadonna, or another Republic military officer. It was subtle, how she'd been pulling away, the fear in her eyes. But Carth knew Aithne Morrigan. And he'd halfway been expecting this, once everything was over and done. He'd hoped that she might snap out of it. If he had wanted to leave, he could have done it days before the rewards ceremony, even. But now he was getting worried, and a little bit frustrated.

Carth had made his way to the study. She was there, staring down at a datapad and tapping a finger against her lips. A chestnut curl drifted in front of her eyes in the air currents. She tucked it behind her ear impatiently. He knocked on the doorframe, walked into the room, and shut the door behind him.

She looked up. "Carth. What can I do for you?" She smiled, but it was too bright, too obliging. Her eyes were uncertain and fearful.

He sighed and sat down on the study sofa. "We need to talk," he informed her.

"What about?" she asked. "Because I'm sort of busy…and if it's not important…"

"It's important," Carth cut her off. Aithne's face fell. But she rose, walked over, and joined him on the sofa.

"Alright," she said. "Shoot." Her expression looked like she expected just that, or nearly.

Carth hesitated, unsure how to begin. "Look," he said. "You've always been honest with me. Sometimes I haven't believed you have been. Sometimes…I haven't deserved it. But you've always told me what I've needed to know. But for some reason, when we touched down here, that stopped. You stick to jokes, comments about the weather, and you haven't said anything important for weeks. You're nervous. You avoid being alone with me. You're distancing yourself, beautiful."

Aithne blinked at him. She opened and closed her mouth once. Twice. Her cheeks colored, and she looked down. "Have I been so transparent?" she said at last. "Well. It's just…" she stumbled. "We've been through a lot together…but now it's over. The Republic has always been your number one priority, and I didn't want to…to hold you to anything that you might have said when emotions were running high, when things were different…"

Carth nodded. It was what he thought then. He took Aithne's hand. "_You_ thought that now that I'm back with the Republic, now that I've had a few weeks to think, and now everyone knows you were Revan, I might have changed my mind about how I feel about you."

Aithne shuddered, and inclined her head slightly.

Carth sighed. "You never even conceived that I might have meant what I said, did you? Honestly, Aithne, you hounded me day and night trying to prove yourself and teach me to trust you. There has to be a time when you start trusting me."

"I've _depended_ on you," Aithne said sharply. Her eyes went distant, and she continued, more softly. "You don't know how much I've depended on you."

"Then depend on it that when I say I want to give you a future, I mean it," Carth retorted. "You've been acting like I'm going to disappear. We've been busy, so I haven't mentioned it. But now's the time to make choices. Where are you going, Aithne? Do you…" A thought occurred to Carth suddenly. He froze, and his stomach dropped. "Do you…do you even want me there?"

The response was immediate. Aithne's hand came up to cup his cheek. "Carth, of _course_ I do. Always. I've been going out of my mind, and Mission was just about to…"

"Mission?" Carth demanded. "What about her?"

Aithne looked down. "Force," she muttered. "I think I've messed this up." She looked up. "You know Big Z's headed to Kashyyyk as soon as we leave here. Mission's not. She's coming with me. We…we worked it out a few weeks back. The notary will be here tomorrow afternoon with the adoption papers."

The news hit him like a speeding swoop bike. At first, Carth was just shocked. Then, immediately, hot anger coursed through him. Aithne adopting Mission made all the sense in the world. But for her not to tell him- to deliberately… Carth stared at Aithne. He shut his mouth, stood, and paced once around the room. Then twice. Finally, he figured he could keep his voice under control. "You two have had this worked out for _weeks, _and you didn't think to tell me? And you're just realizing _now_ that that wasn't a good idea? Aithne…" he cut off.

Aithne stood. "Carth, I- Mission wanted to tell you, to ask you if you wanted in on…" she was pale. She brought a hand up to her head. "I've miscalculated. That's new. And you- you're actually _angry,_ aren't you?" She stole a glance at him.

Carth threw his hands up. "You got that, did you? Damn it, Aithne! I don't like…"

"Being left out of the loop. Yes. I should have realized." She shook her head. "But in my defense, I didn't think…I mean, you didn't trust me, before. And you blew up with me after _Leviathan, _but I don't think you've ever really been properly _angry_ at _me_ before. I didn't want to press…I didn't think you would…" she cut off.

"You didn't think it'd bother me?" Carth demanded. He crossed over to her and seized her hands. "Aithne, is this how it's going to be? Are you just going to…keep running? Keep moving on as if I hadn't said very clearly _I want to be with you_." Aithne stared at him. Carth sighed, and his anger dissipated. "I love you, but this can't be a one-way street."

Aithne was still staring at him. "Force, you were serious. You are." In Carth's hands, her wrists relaxed, and she threaded her fingers through his. "Carth, what if I remember? What if I change?"

"You _won't_," Carth said. "And even if you do, I'll be right there with you. We'll work it out, together."

"Even though Malak's dead and gone and there's no reason for it?" she challenged.

Carth leaned forward until his forehead touched Aithne's. "I love you. Isn't that...isn't that reason enough?"

"And what about the Republic?"

"The Republic doesn't need me anymore," Carth told her. "At least not like they did. And even if they did, they could find someone else. I've learned from my mistakes. I've done my time saving the galaxy. It's time for me to stand still in one place. And my place is with you."

Aithne smiled, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "You're a lunatic, Carth Onasi. Far be it from me to try to stop you, though. Would you like to be on the adoption papers tomorrow?"

Carth kissed her forehead. "Yes, Aithne. I would like to be on the adoption papers tomorrow." He smirked. "Not quite sure how Mission will feel about having me for a _legal _guardian."

Now she laughed. "You kidding? It was taking all of my strength to keep her from demanding you take the job with me. Mish absolutely loves you. You're good for her."

"So are you." She didn't answer. "Right. Well that's settled. But we're not done."

"No." Aithne let him lead her back over to the sofa, and they both sat down.

"We've got an adopted teenage Twi'lek," Carth said, "And I have a son…"

Aithne frowned. "You were going to try to contact him this morning," she recalled. "Did you reach him?"

"Yes, I did. He's waiting on the lunar settlement of Telos, like he said he'd be," Carth told her.

Aithne shifted away from him slightly. "Will he be okay with me?" she asked. "With Mission?"

Carth squeezed her hand. "He asked about you. I think, and _he_ thinks, it's time we all moved on. There'll be work to do, but I think we'll manage just fine." He looked down. He'd been thinking a lot about his son lately, trying to assimilate a Dustil trained in the Force, but trained as a Sith. More than that, trying to imagine the Sith deserter that would be waiting for him on Korriban.

"He'll need training to control the Sith techniques and habits he's learned," he said finally.

Aithne looked thoughtful. "You're right. Dustil's a good kid, but you don't just go through years on Korriban and come out without a scratch."

"You can't train him," Carth observed. "You've given up the Order."

"It wouldn't be a good idea, anyway," Aithne said. "Not with my connection to you." She thought a moment, then smiled. "We could ask Jolee. I don't know what he plans to do once we leave here, but somehow I don't think he wants to go back to Kashyyyk. He might be willing to take Dustil on, and if he does he could be exactly what Dustil needs."

Carth considered the idea. He liked it. He liked it a lot. "That's a good idea," he said. Jolee would know, he thought. The old Jedi would be able to deal with the person Dustil was now, rather than the person he had been. He was removed enough from Carth and Aithne that Dustil would be able to relate to him on a Master-Pupil basis. Jolee would not dismiss the anger and confusion Carth knew Dustil must be going through right now. But he would be able to deal with it. In fact, the more Carth thought about it, the more he liked Aithne's plan. "We'll have to ask him," he said. Carth made a mental note to do so later on today, but then moved on.

"Mission," he said. "Have you considered that she's really no good for a regular education by now?"

Aithne snorted. "You're the one that taught her advanced astrophysics and how to fly a freighter, flyboy."

"You taught her Echani techniques and dragged her all over the galaxy on a suicidal quest to save the galaxy," Carth shot back.

"That suicidal quest to save the galaxy worked," Aithne retorted. "But still, I do see your point. A public school classroom would be a bit dull after becoming a Republic hero and killing many, many Sith."

Carth nodded. "Exactly. I…I've been thinking that she might be an ideal recruit for the Republic Special Ops. They'd appreciate her expertise, after she'd had a few more years of training. They do instruction for it at a few Republic Military Academies."

"Ah. A Republic base," Aithne said, after a small pause. "My community service. You've thought this out. The rebuilding clause of my sentence restricts me to a dozen planets, Carth."

Carth inclined his head. "I know. Telos is one. Admiral Dadonna told me. They've already reestablished a small Academy on the lunar settlement. The Academy there has always focused on training officers and special forces. And Telos is…was…a major center of trade. In the Senate there are already plans in the works for the construction of a massive space station to oversee planetary reconstruction. They'll need help, though."

Aithne's gaze intensified. "You'd help me help the Republic rebuild your homeworld," she said. "We'd be with Dustil, Mission could attend the Academy, and I'd be available to the Fleet. It does seem to cover everything."

Something about her tone caught Carth's attention. "Aithne, is this what you want? Is this okay with you?"

"Carth, I'd _love_ to go with you to Telos," Aithne answered, and Carth could tell she meant it. Yet there was a reserve there, too. He couldn't quite pin it down. Her mouth quirked up. "It's crazy you know. Setting up shop on Telos' moon with two teenagers and the entire galaxy watching."

"As crazy as going on a galactic hunt for Star Maps with the entire Sith Fleet on our tails?" Carth teased. "Forget them, Aithne. This isn't about your past or my past or anything. This is about the future we can build together."

A tear dropped down Aithne's freckled cheek, and she laughed. "I love you," she whispered.

Carth hugged her close, and looked down into her eyes. He knew he was probably the only one that she'd ever let see just how terrified she was of this new thing they were becoming, the only one she'd let know how much she needed him. She didn't know if things would work out between them, and truthfully, he didn't either. But he wiped away the stray tear on her chin, grateful she was willing to try.

* * *

><p>BASTILA POV<p>

Another person was wheeling a load of cargo into the _Ebon Hawk_ when Bastila arrived. Bastila smiled, so as not to cry. The ship was leaving this afternoon, after that luncheon Aithne had ordered. Juhani and Jolee had informed everyone that they would _not_ be eating gunk from the synthesizer for the last meal the erstwhile crew of the _Ebon Hawk_ would eat together. The two of them had splurged to order food from one of the nearby restaurants. It would be here in a few hours.

Bastila couldn't say she blamed them. The _Ebon Hawk_'s synthesizer definitely _didn't_ produce fine cuisine. Bastila sighed. Despite the oiliness of the gunk the synthesizer produced, she'd miss eating it. She'd miss how she always banged her head on the bunk she shared with Juhani. She'd miss how the metal floor groaned in the hallway between the med bay and the main hold. The _Ebon Hawk_ was flying away from Coruscant in about five standard hours. But Bastila wouldn't be on it.

Bastila made her way to the cockpit and sat down. The ship was empty right now, except for the moving people. The rest of the crew would be arriving in the next two hours, from the shops, from the Republic-issued residence they'd shared here on Coruscant, from the Jedi Enclave. She'd spent much time there, growing up. Training on Coruscant with the Masters. Dantooine, too. A few months ago she would have been ashamed to say it, but the _Ebon Hawk_ had been more of a home to her this year travelling with Aithne and the others than any of the various Jedi Enclaves she had spent time in growing up. Bastila sighed. A few months ago she never would have dared to even think that. A few months ago she hadn't fallen to the Dark Side.

Bastila tapped her fingers on the control panel thoughtfully. She saw now, of course, how wrong she'd been, to fall. It hurt to think now upon the darkness that had filled her head. She had tortured and killed Sith at the encouragement of Malak. Underlings that had made mistakes. Inconvenienced him. Or displeased her. Whatever. Malak had said she was proving her superiority, reveling in the newfound 'freedom' of the Dark Side. Now she realized she had just been angry, hurt after weeks of torture, scheming to get to the place where she could exact her vengeance upon the man who had hurt her so much. Such feelings were base. They ought to have been beneath her. But they weren't.

Aithne had led her along with the Jedi Code on the Star Forge. But it wasn't enough, Bastila realized. The Code, the way of the Jedi, it brought peace, order; but it did not now bring Bastila the answers that she craved. Her emotions still roiled. She was still so full of weakness. Weakness and darkness and fear.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and Bastila felt Aithne's mind touch her own. She turned in her seat. It hurt, too, to touch Aithne's consciousness now. She was so full of peace and purpose after her 'sentencing'. Joy, too, more recently. If Aithne were staying, she might teach Bastila how she had found it. But she was going.

"You're early," Aithne said, sitting in the pilot's chair and swiveling to face her.

"I felt this ship deserved a farewell as much as its crew."

"You're not coming, then, when we leave here." The words were unsurprised, but Aithne's face fell a little.

"My mother is still in the hospital here," Bastila said. "She has but a few weeks left, but…" she broke off. Her eyes stung. "I cannot leave her."

"And the position the Council has offered you?" Aithne asked.

Bastila looked up at Aithne helplessly. "I don't know," she said. "I am still so conflicted. I cannot stop the questions in my mind, everything I've ever known. Would I not just be a danger and a burden to the Jedi? Can I even _be_ a Jedi any longer?"

" A much better one than most of them, I dare say," Aithne said calmly. She reached across the aisle to press Bastila's hand, and smiled. "Your conscience, your willingness to take instruction. Your compassion, Bastila. They're much rarer than they should be, in the Order, I'm learning. It's hard, right now, I know. You'll find that many of the questions you're asking you will have to answer yourself, and Jedi and Sith alike have been feeding you philosophies your entire life. But when you come out the other side, Bas, oh- I hope I'm there to see it." She squeezed Bastila's hand. Then she sighed.

"Bastila. I'm…I'm sorry for whatever part of your disquiet I've caused. After _Leviathan…_it was terrible, sorting through my confusion. Whether I was a good guy or a bad guy, Light Side or Dark Side, whatever. That struggle, you must have felt it all along, before I was even conscious of it. Across our bond, I mean. And it wouldn't have just been me you felt. You would have had to deal with your own conflict over who I was, and the pressure of keeping me under control all the time…"she trailed off.

"It was difficult," Bastila said. "You are stronger than I, in more ways than one. It was especially difficult once I got to know you. You…you were just as powerful, just as charismatic and deadly as I had always been told, but for all that you weren't anything like I had expected. You were kinder than I expected, than I thought I deserved, really, and compassionate, and _funny._" She laughed. "I got to _like_ you, see. Befriending Revan, coming to need her and to rely upon her good opinion, was never part of my mission." She looked at Aithne. "I don't regret it, though. Not even now."

Aithne smiled at her. "You're my best friend," she said simply.

"What will you do?" Bastila asked.

Aithne let go of her hand. She looked down. "Well, now that I've finally got free of the Order I suppose I can do what I like as far as _attachment_ goes, can't I? Carth and I've adopted Mission. We're going to Telos."

Bastila smiled. "I thought you might be," she said quietly. "I wish you joy."

"That makes one," Aithne said. "You're the first person I've told, you know. Other than Mission. I'll tell the others when they arrive. The _Ebon Hawk_'s crew is comprised of practically the only people in the galaxy I haven't alienated."

"I do not imagine this separation will be permanent," Bastila said. "For my part, I imagine I will visit the three of you often on Telos." A thought occurred to her then, and she groaned. "Force help me, if you have children with Carth-they'll be _dreadful_! Impossible! They'll cause _unimaginable_ chaos if I do not come from time to time."

"The galaxy might fall," Aithne agreed. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves."

"So help me, Aithne, I am going to miss you," Bastila said.

Aithne helped her to her feet. "I'll miss you, too, Bas." She wrapped her arms around Bastila, and Bastila hugged her back, hard.

Just then she heard voices resounding through the _Hawk._ Aithne let go and turned to look. Bastila took the opportunity to wipe her eyes. "The rest of them are starting to get here," Bastila said. "Shall we?"

* * *

><p>AITHNE POV<p>

The former crew of the _Ebon Hawk_ had all gathered in the conference room one last time. The carry-out dishes lay mostly empty around the big table, and everyone was relaxing, enjoying each other's company.

Finally, though, the time had come. Aithne squeezed Carth's hand under the table, released it, and stood to address the party. "Well," she said. "We've had a run of it and no mistake."

Everyone smiled. Jolee laughed. Teethree beeped, and Canderous nodded.

"But the galaxy's been saved," Aithne continued, "And it's time we went our separate ways. So I called us altogether to discuss what those ways might be. I hereby open the last _Ebon Hawk_ Council of War, where we are to consider what all of us shall do now, what will become of this proud vessel, and finally shall say our teary farewells." She smiled past the lump in her throat as she looked around the table.

"Juhani?" she said. "Would you like to go first?"

Juhani inclined her head and stood. Aithne heard the whir of the gears in her new prosthetic leg, but the Cathar had already mastered movement with it. No one would be able to tell by any clumsiness that below the knee Juhani's leg was entirely artificial. She moved with all the grace that had ever been so characteristic of her. "When the _Ebon Hawk_ flies she will leave me here," she said. "Most of you know that I have been offered a position here on Coruscant."

Aithne nodded. "I'm sure I speak for all the crew when I say that we wish you well in it," she said. "Juhani- you have sacrificed so much on this journey. You saved this ship and the lives of most of the crew. You have my gratitude, my respect, and my friendship forever."

Aithne bowed to Juhani. "Me, too," Mission piped up. "Juhani- I'm really going to miss you." She extended her hand to grip the Cathar's across the table. The two of them had talked a lot after Juhani had told her about Taris.

Juhani smiled at Mission, then at the rest of them. "I thank you," she said in her quiet way. "Your friendship has meant more to me than you can imagine. I will…I will carry you with me in my heart always. All of you." This with special glances at Carth and Canderous. Aithne smiled. She was incredibly proud of Juhani.

Juhani sat. Aithne turned to Bastila. "Bas? You're staying here, too, aren't you?" she said, for the benefit of the crew.

Bastila nodded, standing. "I am," she said. She briefly spoke of her mother, and the crew extended their sympathies and well wishes. Mission hugged her. Carth kissed her on the cheek. Jolee particularly expressed how he'd seen her go from a prissy princess to as promising of a Jedi lass he'd ever seen, and said that he hoped that she stuck around on Coruscant. The Jedi could use someone like her around, he said, just to shake things up.

Aithne grinned at him then. "Speaking of shaking things up, Jolee, have you thought about what we spoke of earlier?"

"And what was that?" Juhani asked.

Aithne looked around at the rest of the table. "Oh, Carth and I just said we thought he might do something a bit more interesting than returning to his burrow in the Kashyyyk Shadowlands, is all."

Jolee chuckled. "They want me to fly around the galaxy chasing around a bunch of young hooligans and murderers," he informed the crew. "Heh. Just because I didn't die of this _last_ mission." He nodded, though. "I'm not quite done seeing the galaxy yet. Thank you. I don't see why you want this old man to teach your son, Carth, but if he agrees, I shall do so."

"Jolee's going to teach Dustil?" Mission demanded. "That ought to be some fun!"

"Not just Dustil," Aithne said. "There are hundreds of Sith kids running around lost, confused, and leaderless right now. I've met some. They're not all bad. Those that are need to be taken care of, but those that aren't need a teacher. Someone who can see both sides, who understands."

"Hmph," Jolee said.

"It is a good plan," Juhani said. "Jolee, you are well qualified to find and save those Sith that can be saved, and to neutralize those that can't."

"It would be a great service to the galaxy," Bastila agreed. "Jolee, you are as wise as any Jedi Master."

"The wisest I've met as far as I can remember," Aithne argued.

"That's not saying much, lass. You don't remember what you did three years ago," Jolee objected.

"I've learned more about the Force, love, loss, and compassion from you than I did from all the Council on Dantooine," Aithne said with finality. "Or from the Masters here that have been talking at me for weeks."

"You're a great Jedi, Jolee," Carth said. "And a good man besides." He grinned at Jolee. "Better get used to hearing it, old man. You'll be hearing it a lot."

"Maybe I should go back to Kashyyyk," Jolee grumped. But he smiled.

"We'll be heading there, anyway," Aithne said. "Zaalbar?"

/Yes,/ the Wookiee said. /I shall be returning home./

/Very good,/ Aithne said. She went to her biggest friend and clasped his furry arm. /Your people still have need of you, Zaalbar. You have discharged your debt honorably and well. It has been my honor and my pleasure to know you, and it would please me further still to escort you home at last./

Zaalbar nodded. /I thank you, Aithne Morrigan,/ he said in the formal Wookiee style. /It has been a good hunt. You are a woman just and valiant, and many years shall pass before my kind will meet one such as you again./

"I will take you to Kashyyyk," Aithne repeated in Basic. "And then, I think I might have an idea. Canderous, do you have any plans?"

"I don't know. I'd been planning on catching a shuttle to the Rim, making it as best I could." Canderous shot her a look, catching her mood. "Unless you have another idea."

"I might have," Aithne agreed. "If you're interested. Tell me: according to Mandalorian tradition, how is the title of Mandalore passed from chieftain to chieftain?"

Canderous stood up a little straighter "With the mask of Mandalore," he replied simply and correctly. "But it was lost after the Wars. Unless…" he trailed off, and began to stare at Aithne. She folded her arms and arched an eyebrow at him.

"Got it now?" she teased. "I remembered just before the Battle of the Star Forge. I've spent a lot of time here in the Jedi Archives, checking up to see if I was right. I took the mask, right after I defeated Mandalore the…Ultimate, was it? I hid it, I think, on Korriban. Technically my ownership of the mask would make me a Mandalorian, and Mandalore to boot, if I followed your _Resol'nare. _But I don't. And I won't. And Aithne Morrigan has no use for the mask of Mandalore. However, she knows someone who just might." Aithne gave a little bow.

Canderous gaped. /You are Mandalore,/ he said, reverting to Mandalorian in his astonishment. /But no, not really. Still, I cannot believe I never thought…/ he chuckled a bit, recovering himself. "And you'd just give it to me, would you?"

Aithne shrugged. "You said you needed a purpose. You said the clans were scattered. You said they needed a new direction. So give it to them. Though I do not claim the title, the mask of Mandalore is mine by right of conquest, to dispose of as I see fit. So I've decided to trust you with it. I trust _you_."

Carth laughed. "You know, I never thought I'd say it, Canderous, but I trust you, too."

"Come with us to Korriban," Aithne urged Canderous. "We'll retrieve the mask, and then I'll help you on your way to go-where?"

Canderous shook his head, still dazed. "Everywhere," he managed. "The clans are everywhere." He looked at Aithne. "This…this is too much."

"The worker earns his wages," Aithne quoted. "I'm guessing that Republic medal doesn't mean much to you. The chance to restore the Mandalorian clans to glory? I figured that that might do the job a bit better."

"You figured right," Canderous said, finally assimilating Aithne's generosity. "And…thank you. I'm guessing you're staying on this ship with Aithne through Korriban?" he asked Mission.

Mission nodded. "And after." she said. She looked over at Aithne and Carth. "Your turn."

"Yeah," Canderous said. "What are you doing, Onasi? Morrigan?"

Aithne smiled at the tabletop, shifting a bit. "Well, first we're dropping Zaalbar off on Kashyyyk," she said. "And then we're going to Korriban to look for the mask of Mandalore."

"Come off it," Jolee said. "You know what Canderous meant."

Carth cleared his throat. "We're going back to Telos," he informed the table at large. "Jolee, Mission, Aithne, and I. My son, Dustil, is waiting for us there, and the Republic has promised me a position with the reconstruction."

"You remember that notary guy came a couple days ago?" Mission asked. "Yeah, well, he came with some papers so Aithne and Carth could stop _pretending_ to parent me and get it set down _legally_ that they could. They've already enrolled me in the Republic Academy on Telos' moon." She sighed. "Sheesh, this is gonna be a nightmare." But the corners of her mouth twitched, and Aithne knew nobody was really fooled. She winked at Mission.

"Especially since Aithne's insisted on taking that psychopa…"Carth began to mutter.

HK-47 cut in. "Statement: I am a precision instrument of genius engineering, meatbag, not a psychopathic machine. I operate exactly as I was programmed to. The master is quite right to take me along."

Aithne grimaced. "He'll be useful, Carth," she said. "We've talked about it. In case someone decides they don't want Revan around Telos- to entertain reporters…" Everyone laughed. "For protocol, too, at all those reconstruction meetings."

Carth looked from Aytchkay to Aithne. "Meetings. Are you mad?"

Aithne sighed. "Maybe." She looked over her old droid. "Perhaps I could…I don't have Revan's knowledge of Aytchkay, but I can work on him and see what I can do."

HK-47 swiveled his head. "Query: What do you mean, master? What exactly do you intend?"

Aithne folded her arms. "To upgrade you," she said firmly. "I intend, HK-47, to improve you to make you even more useful to myself and my family. This may involve some fundamental personality shifts." (_Will_, Aithne thought privately) "But I promise that if I do not better your natural abilities, I will at least leave them entirely intact."

Aytchkay's red eyes blazed brightly for a moment. There was a moment of tension. Then it abated. "Agreement: I will cooperate, Master," he said.

Aithne nodded. "Good," she answered. "I could fight you on it, and I'd win, but I'm glad I won't have to. I'd hate to carve up your systems with a vibroblade."

Jolee grinned appreciatively. Juhani nodded.

"Very well then. You are going to Telos? What do you plan to do there?"

Aithne looked at her. "I'm going to serve my so-called community service," she told her crew. "I'm going to volunteer with the reconstruction. Telos was beautiful. It will be again if I have anything to say about it."

"And you're going together?" Canderous asked, folding his arms. "Did you want to make it official? The two of you could say your vows right now."

Carth looked at Aithne. Aithne could tell he was thinking about it, what it would be like to maybe marry her someday. Her heart raced. She wanted nothing more, and yet, she looked at Jolee, and couldn't help but remember that love didn't always work out. Living in the shadow of her past might prove a bigger strain than even the pull of Exar Kun. "Maybe someday," she answered Canderous. "But we're not Mandalorians."

"Be a hell of a lot simpler if you were," Canderous muttered.

"Everything will become clear in time," Jolee said. "Well. That's it, then, isn't it? We take off from here, leaving Bastila and Juhani. We head to Kashyyyk, drop Zaalbar off. We go to Korriban, pick up some dead Mandalorian's war mask…"

"Watch it, old man," Canderous growled.

"Ooh, forgive me, I'm sure. We pick up some incredibly important historical and political Mandalorian artifact and drop Canderous off someplace to begin his quest to unite the clans and fly off to Telos. Right?"

"That's about the size of it, yes."

"Then what are we standing around here for? We might as well clean up the crockery. Meeting adjourned! We got places to go, people to see!"

Aithne smiled. They _did_ all have places to go. And it was good. "I couldn't have said it better myself."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Right. Just a chapter of farewells, then, and maybe an epilogue. Leave a review. Tell me what you think!**

**May the Force be With You,  
>LMSharp<strong>


	48. A New Start

**Disclaimer: Citadel Station isn't mine, either…**

* * *

><p>Chapter Forty-Eight<p>

Admiral Forn Dadonna and Master Vandar came to the platform when Bastila and Juhani were just about ready to go. The navigational systems were already locked onto Kashyyyk, and all systems were go. Carth had only to put the _Ebon Hawk_ into gear for them to leave Coruscant. But goodbyes remained to be said.

"Farewell, Rev…Aithne," Master Vandar said, correcting himself at Aithne's glare. "May the Force be with you on this last journey. The Jedi wish you well."

Aithne snorted. "They better. Listen. Vandar. You and the Jedi take care of Juhani and Bastila, okay? They'll serve you well. Better than I did, certainly. And as far as I'm concerned, much better than you deserve." Then she sighed, and extended her hand to the diminutive Jedi Master. He took it in his claw. "I'm sorry about Dantooine," she said quietly. "And I hope…I hope that the Jedi Order comes back from the war stronger than ever. May the Force be with you."

The corners of Vandar's mouth turned up, and he nodded. A hardness in Aithne seemed to soften a bit. It wasn't quite forgiveness, she thought, but it was a start.

Over a few feet, Mission and Canderous were talking earnestly to Juhani. Mission was crying. Jolee was gripping Bastila's shoulder. Aithne joined Carth in front of Admiral Dadonna. "Thanks for coming to see us off, Admiral," he said. He shook her hand.

"If you ever need anything, Carth, just let me know," she told him in return. "The Fleet is losing a fine soldier now you're leaving. Are you sure I can't convince you to stay?"

Carth smiled down at Aithne and put his arm around her shoulders. "I've done my time, Admiral. It's been my honor, ma'am."

"We'll be in touch, though," Aithne promised. "Admiral, you've done so much for me…for all of us. We'll never forget it."

Admiral Dadonna nodded. She clicked her heels together. "Aithne Morrigan," she said, shaking Aithne's hand in turn. "It has been a privilege and a pleasure. I trust one day we'll meet again. Until then, May the Force be with you."

Aithne smiled at her. "And you."

Together, she and Carth walked over to Juhani. Aithne looked up at Carth. He nodded and let her go. Aithne went to the younger woman. "You are a wonder, Juhani," she murmured. She gripped Juhani's shoulder. "Never forget that, okay? You're amazing. Always. The Force is with you, and you are going to do incredible things here. I'll see you around. Promise."

Juhani looked into her eyes and smiled. "You made possible my freedom, my happiness," she said. "Now you will have the same, in your own way. I think, in the end, it is all that I ever wanted. Farewell, my friend." She laid a hand over Aithne's on her shoulder, then released it. Aithne stepped back, and Juhani gave Carth a wave and a bow. Then the two of them walked over to Bastila as the rest of the remaining crew made for the ramp.

Carth walked forward and kissed Bastila's cheek. "You'll be alright," he told her. She was crying. "You'll be alright, Bastila. Thank you. For all you've done. And all you've tried to do. If we can ever do anything for you, if you ever need anything at all, you can come to us. Any time, our door's open to you."

Aithne nodded and stepped forward. "This isn't goodbye, though. We'll see you, or I'll come back here to yell at you and see you anyway."

Bastila laughed. She hugged Aithne tightly. Aithne hugged her back. "Love you, Bas," she whispered.

"Goodbye," Bastila said, releasing her. "I will see you soon. Goodbye, Carth. Safe flight. And may the Force be with you both."

"You take care," Carth replied. He and Aithne joined the others inside the _Hawk. _But even as Carth went to the cockpit and the ship came alive under Aithne's feet she ran to the garage window and watched the upright figures of Bastila and Juhani fade into the horizon of Coruscant.

_And may the Force be with you, my friends_.

* * *

><p>It took two weeks for Carth to fly the <em>Hawk<em> from Coruscant to Kashyyyk. Aithne didn't think that Mission and Zaalbar were apart for more than an hour the entire time. Still, she reasoned, the two of them hadn't been apart for more than a couple of days in the last two or three years. And now they were preparing to more or less go their separate ways. She ran into them all over the _Ebon Hawk, _playing Pazaak, exploring the smuggling compartments, or just talking together in quiet corners about their adventures, and what the future had in store for each of them.

When Carth finally drew near the dock, at first Aithne was rather worried. Several Wookiees were there waiting with bowcasters. Belatedly, Aithne remembered that the last time she was here she had helped the Wookiees rid their planet of 'outsiders'. However, when the Wookiees identified the _Ebon Hawk, _she saw them raise their bowcasters and break into cheers. She smiled.

Zaalbar and the crew were escorted to Rwookrrorro amidst honor and rejoicing, and Freyyr insisted when they arrived that they stay the night and eat once more with the tribe.

There was music, and dancing, and Shyriiwook speeches. There was much ado about 'those that freed us from Czerka', 'bearer of Bacca's Blade', and 'the hairless one'. Jolee's expression was hilarious at that last one. Aithne and the others all got to sleep so late that it was early, and Aithne's hammock was very comfortable that night.

Aithne awoke around mid-morning. Canderous, Carth, and Jolee were moving around packing up, but Mission was still in her hammock. She wasn't sleeping, though. From the shadows under her eyes, Aithne gathered that she probably hadn't slept at all. Aithne didn't even bother tying her hair back or changing into the day's clothes. She went to Mission immediately and helped the girl up. "C'mon," she said quietly. "It'll be alright, Mish."

When they were brought before Zaalbar and Freyyr later, for a while, everyone just stood around awkwardly. No one wanted to be the first to say good-bye. Finally, Canderous strode forward. He stuck his hand out and shook Zaalbar's giant paw.

"It's been a good hunt," he grunted. "See you around." He made a jerky bow to Freyyr, and stepped back into line. Mission sobbed.

Aithne stepped forward and knelt. Addressing her words to both Wookiees at first, she said, /Your hospitality and friendship is my honor and joy./ Then she turned to Zaalbar. /My friend, it has been a good hunt. We will meet again, I know. But now it is time for me to go, and for you to begin the work that needs doing here./

Zaalbar reached down and pulled her to her feet. Then, to her surprise, he embraced her, much as he did Mission all the time. He then looked over her shoulder to Carth, and beckoned for him to come forward. Carth did so.

/You are good humans, and dear friends,/ Zaalbar said quietly. /I shall see you again, I know, but I want to tell you this now./

Carth nodded. Zaalbar looked at them both. His black gaze was deadly serious. /I know you love Mission, or I would never be letting her go with you,/ he said. /Promise me that you shall be her kin and her support so long as she needs you both./

For once, Mission did not protest the notion that she needed taking care of.

Carth spoke first. "I will be there for her until the day I die," he said.

Aithne looked over at Mission. /By the laws of the Republic, and by the laws of our hearts, she is ours to care for,/ she swore in the formal Wookiee style. /We shall do our duty, and it will be a joy and an adventure./

Zaalbar nodded, and released Aithne's hand. Aithne and Carth instinctively stepped back. Mission stepped forward, and flung herself at Zaalbar. He hugged her tightly.

"I'm gonna miss you, Big Z," she whispered into his fur.

He growled lowly. /I will see you again,/ he promised her. /This is not abandonment, but a transition. Just because you have new family and we will be apart now does not mean we are no longer family./

Freyyr looked at his son quizzically. Jolee looked at Freyyr. Freyyr looked at the Wookiee and Twi'lek, and shrugged.

Mission sniffed. "Alright," she said finally, releasing the big Wookiee. "I'm ready. But I'm not gonna say good-bye, you know? Just…see you later."

Zaalbar smiled with his eyes in that Wookiee way he had. /I will see you later, Mission,/ he replied.

He walked with them to the gates of Rwookrrorro, and stood there with his father, ready to start the life he should have had all along.

Carth squeezed Mission's shoulder at the gate, and Aithne put an arm around her. Carth led the remaining crew of the _Ebon Hawk_ down the walkway. And Mission didn't look back.

* * *

><p>Dreshdae was still crawling with Czerka and smuggling scum, but since Aithne and her friends had been to Korriban last, all the Sith had mysteriously vanished. Aithne was a little worried, really. Korriban wasn't Republic, after all. She'd expected to find a hornet's nest here before they got to the mask of Mandalore, but there wasn't a Sith to be seen in the streets. It made Aithne uneasy- she preferred to see her enemies. The entire city was of her mind, it seemed.<p>

Instead of dancing in the streets, the inhabitants of Dreshdae were more nervous than ever. They skulked around corners and hid in the shadows. The cantina was mostly empty. But Aithne, Carth, and Canderous were finally able to find someone willing to talk- a Pazaak player named Jeena.

"What's going on?" Aithne asked, playing a plus four card to bring her total hand to twenty. Jeena scowled. She'd struck out on her turn, but they still had a couple hands to go before she'd have really lost. "Where are all the Sith? Why's everyone dodging around?"

Jeena snorted. "Where've you been, spacer? The war's over. The Sith lost. My guess is those that were left couldn't wait to get off this rock and head further out on the Rim. The Republic's just next door, you know." She shuffled the cards and dealt Aithne her first card of the new hand, a three. "I'd leave myself, but my luck's been pretty bad lately. And Czerka's not hiring, either. They've lost too much what with the revolt on Edean and all."

"But aren't there any Sith?" Carth pressed. "They had an Academy here, didn't they?"

Jeena shifted uncomfortably. "To tell the truth, no one's seen hide nor hair of anyone from the Academy for about six months. It's spooky-like. Something must've happened, but it's not like any of us are going to go knock on the door and check."

Aithne turned to Carth and Canderous. "Six months…Isn't that when we were here last?"

Carth checked the date on his chrono. "Yeah, that'd be about it."

Jeena laid down a minus five, taking the hand with nineteen. Aithne frowned and began to shuffle. "And no one's been down to check up on them? I mean, wouldn't you all feel a lot better if you knew they were dead? Or…um…gone?"

Jeena snorted. "What if they ain't, spacer? Those Sith kill people just for fun. Better to let dead dogs lie, if you ask me." She looked up at Aithne then. "You gotta be half-crazy to even suggest it. You say you were here six months back?" Her eyes narrowed, and she suddenly scooped up her cards. "Oh, hell, you get away from me, lady. You're Revan, ain't you? I saw you- all three of you on the broadcast last month!" Her hand twitched towards the blaster she carried and she began to back away.

Aithne held up her hands. "I'm not looking for any trouble, Jeena," she said.

Jeena snorted. "You don't have to be. You're the sort that carries it around with you. You wiped 'em out down there at the Academy last time, didn't you? Else why would you think they were dead? Listen, you stay away from me, Revan! You and your friends!"

Aithne sighed. She placed the hundred credits she had wagered on the Pazaak game on the table. "Buy passage to some planet that suits you, Jeena," she said quietly. "Thanks for the information, and good luck."

She turned away. It was going to be like this from now on, she realized. They weren't all like Jeena. The dock manager they'd run into earlier had begged for an autograph. But no matter what she did or where she went, Revan and her legacy would follow her around forever. She began walking away from the cantina. Carth caught up and grabbed her hand.

"It's alright, Aithne," he said. "You're fine. She was just an ignorant Pazaak addict."

"She was right, though," Aithne replied. "Carth, do you really think we wiped them out? All of them?"

Carth frowned. "I don't know," he said finally. "It was pretty hot in there when we left. Maybe we didn't. Maybe we just wiped enough out that those who were still alive afterwards just…left."

Canderous had caught up with them. "Don't we have to go through that Academy to get to the valley where you think you buried the mask of Mandalore?"

Aithne winced. "Yeah, but I don't like the idea of it if no one's been through there since we carved up the place six months ago."

Aithne almost passed out when she entered the Sith Academy. The stench was terrible. Even Canderous wrinkled his nose over his sneer. Bodies were strewn left and right, in the same places that Carth, Jolee, and Aithne had felled them months ago. But there were a few differences. Some of the bodies had been stripped. One had been hacked to pieces by the back door.

"There's been someone here since we left," she coughed. "At least once." She gestured towards the body. "They didn't really like the Sith much, either."

"They still haven't been here for months," Carth said. "Can we get out of here so we can find that mask and get off this planet? This smell…"

"Worse than thirty Gamorreans who haven't showered in decades in the Tarisian sewers, I know," Aithne agreed, holding her nose. "You're right. Let's go."

The Dark Side had been strong enough in the Academy. When Aithne and her companions passed out into the Valley of the Sith Lords the Darkness intensified. Aithne tensed, but stretching out with her senses, she felt no Sith at all. Only the odd tuk'ata. The valley was dead, and utterly silent.

"Force, Jeena was right, this is creepy," Aithne muttered to Carth.

He shrugged. "At least the smell's gone."

Aithne shuddered. "I'm going to try to meditate," she told Carth and Canderous. "I don't remember exactly where in this valley I buried that mask. Meditation might help me to remember."

Canderous nodded. Aithne sat on the hot rock floor of the valley, but before she started to meditate, she looked up at Carth. "Watch me, okay? This valley isn't exactly friendly."

Carth's jaw set. "I remember," he said. "I've got your back, beautiful."

Aithne closed her eyes and felt out with the Force. She delved deep for memories forgotten, even memories that might have been burned away. The Dark Side swirled around her. It was hauntingly beautiful amidst the crumbling columns and the emptiness of the ruined and looted tombs that riddled the barren rock surface of Korriban.

Aithne threw up walls around her mind and heart and clung with her spirit to Carth's Force-presence behind her. His aura was clean now from the hatred and bitterness that had tainted it for so long. The honesty and goodness that had always been there was clearer than ever, and made even stronger by his hope for the future. The Dark Side was strong, but it could not touch Carth. In fact Aithne felt it recoil back from him.

She used his presence as both shield and sword. With him by her side she could see clearly without fear of corruption. She struck out at the Dark with her mind, looking within and without. She called for _Revan_.

The hills of Korriban shivered in fearful recognition of the name. The tomb of Naga Sadow, the darkness that was the Star Map remembered Revan particularly well. The Force sang to Aithne that more recently there had been _Revan, _but _not-Revan. _She had gone all over these hills and brought both darkness and light. Aithne shunted those memories to the side-she knew all that- and delved deeper. Then, older, the hills recalled a fierce glee and determination. Aithne felt that a shovel had broken the ground, just over a tomb-mound, where the cliffs overlooked the wasteland. The memory caught Aithne like a tidal wave.

* * *

><p><em>I'd done it. I'd defied the Order, sent thousands to their deaths, burned worlds, but I'd done it. The Mandalorians were broken. Never again would they raze worlds and demolish peoples. Never again would they unite under one banner. I'd made sure of it. <em>

_I looked out over the empty stone hills of Korriban and threw the last clump of dirt over the mask I'd taken from the dead face of Mandalore the Ultimate, with the tomb of Naga Sadow to my back. No one came here. The Sith weren't interested in the barren wasteland here. They had probed and fathomed the ancient tombs here over and over. Mostly they just ended up dying a lot. They rarely discovered anything of note at all. It was kind of funny, really, how stupid the Sith had become ever since Exar Kun had been defeated. Hiring the Mandalorians. Really. I'd put them to better use. _

_The Republic had been useless before. They were worse than that now. The Republic was scattered and in disrepair. They couldn't govern a group of tach if they tried. The people were hurting. Part of it was my fault. Of course I knew that. How could I not? But I would fix it. I would fix everything. I had the Dark Side as my ally and the strength to achieve my aim. And now I could find the Star Forge. I would rule the galaxy._

* * *

><p>Aithne's eyes snapped open. She rose and turned. "Canderous. I know where it is."<p>

Aithne led Carth and Canderous over the hill that contained the tomb of Naga Sadow. It was a rough climb. The rocks had a nasty habit of sliding underfoot, and more than once they had to steady one another. But finally Aithne, Carth, and Canderous got to the base of the hill. Aithne looked out over the barren wasteland. The sun was setting to her left.

She laughed humorlessly. "Amazing, how idiotic I was sometimes," she said quietly. "I mean, it was brilliant, to bury the mask here, outside of the Republic, in the middle of nowhere. To come here and pick up a lot of bored Sith. But apparently I knew about the Star Forge the first time I was here. But I didn't know about the Map right behind us." She laughed again. She looked at the ground, and blushed. "Er…Carth? Canderous? Either of you happen to have a shovel?"

Canderous laughed and clapped her shoulder. "You really haven't changed much, have you, Aithne? Brilliant, remembering you had the mask, tracking it all the way out here," he mocked. "And then to forget the damn shovel." He brought one out from his pack and handed it over. Ruefully, Aithne started to dig.

* * *

><p>There were three other freighters in the small Telosian lunar docking bay, and Canderous was outbound on one of them. At least six other ships waited out in space to unload engineers and parts for the Citadel Space Station project, stage one of the Republic sponsored Telosian restoration. Things were moving fast here. Aithne knew she certainly wouldn't be bored, at least.<p>

Still, moving on. It was going to be difficult. Carth had found Canderous a ship a couple days ago. A Sergeant Azle in charge here at the settlement had done a search at Carth's request when they'd radioed in to tell Dustil they'd be arriving. Canderous' ride was mid-fifties, recently retired from Republic military service, single, bored, and more tolerant than most as far as Mandalorians went. He'd been more than happy to hire on.

The last couple weeks Canderous had taken up standing behind Carth in the cockpit. It'd gotten on Carth's nerves. But now that it was time to say goodbye, Carth eyed Canderous' ship and pilot with envious eyes. The _Ebon Hawk_ didn't look like leaving Telos for a long time. Aithne knew Carth would miss flying dearly.

She bumped him gently with her shoulder. "Cheer up, flyboy," she murmured. "I'm sure they'll have you towing scrap out for the engineers and construction workers to turn into station in no time. And then you'll be flying to and from restoration zones. You'll be doing so much flying you'll be sick of it. And at the end of every day you'll come home, and no one will be trying to kill you, even!" He turned to look at her.

"Is that so?" he asked. His eyes lit in amusement.

Aithne shrugged. "Well, there'll be angry bureaucrats you'll upset in those hoity-toity meetings," she said. "And I may not get Aytchkay completely fixed for months. There's your ex-Sith of a son that'll be around for a while, at least. And his cranky Jedi Master. There's your hormonal teenage adopted daughter. And then there's me. I have a bad reputation. And a horrible temper. Or so I've been told." She tapped her finger on her chin. "You know, flyboy, you might actually be safer if you mobbed that pilot right now and begged Canderous for his job."

Carth grinned. "I think I'll take my chances," he said. He caught her around the waist and kissed her. Aithne smiled against his lips, grateful he hadn't caught her seriousness. "Thanks," he murmured.

The others emerged from the _Ebon Hawk_. Somehow Mission had gotten Jolee to carry her bag as well as his own, judging from his long-suffering expression. Aytchkay was walking ahead of the small group, looking from side to side in irritation. Mission was shaking hands with Canderous, and Teethree was trailing behind her.

Aithne smiled sadly. Canderous' pilot was checking in the last load of his cargo. This was it, then. She looked at Canderous. He'd acquired a full set of armor on the Star Forge journey, but now that he had the mask of Mandalore, he never took off his helmet. He cut a rather alarming figure in all that thick metal plating. But she knew the Mandalorians would rally to it.

"Are you off, then?" she asked.

Canderous shrugged. "Yeah. I have to get a move on. The clans aren't staying still, you know. There's a lot of work to do." His voice sounded strange through the mask.

"You could stay for a few days," Carth said. "We'd love to have you."

Canderous shook his head. "Maybe I'll see you around again someday, Onasi, but for now, it's time to go."

"You do what you have to," Jolee said. "It's been…interesting, Canderous."

Canderous laughed. "Likewise, old man. Good luck with the kid. Hey, Vao?"

"Yeah?" Mission said.

"You take care, okay? Give 'em hell at that Academy."

Mission grinned. "Oh, you just bet I will. Good luck, Canderous, with the Mandalorians and all."

Aithne looked up at Canderous. "Take off that mask, you. I want to say good-bye to Canderous Ordo, not the mask of Mandalore."

She felt Carth stiffen in surprise when Canderous actually complied. Aithne smiled. Carth extended his hand. "Er…goodbye, Canderous."

Canderous shook it. "You're a good soldier, Onasi. See you in a few months. Take care of her."

Aithne sighed. "I can take care of myself, Ordo," she said, irritated. "Revan, remember? But it's nice to know you care." She searched his face for a moment. /May your sword stay sharp and may your foes flee before you,/ she said finally in Mandalorian.

Canderous took Aithne's hand. "Look, I still got that com-link," he said. "If you ever need anything, it'll be open. It's been my honor, _Aithne Morrigan_."

Aithne stepped up on tiptoe then and kissed Canderous on his scarred cheek. "See you around, Ordo," she muttered. Then she winked, and Canderous and T3-M4 made their way to the _Ebon Hawk_ and its new pilot.

Mission saw him first, just outside the docking bay and just inside the settlement. She grabbed Carth's shoulder. "That's him, isn't it?" she hissed. "That kid there? That's Dustil!"

Carth, Aithne, and Jolee turned, and the three of them went quiet. There he was, sure enough, leaning up against the wall of the walkway. His eyes followed their movements. Aithne saw his jaw tighten. He was in civilian clothes, but they weren't loose enough to hide the lightsaber he was obviously still wearing beneath this tunic. When he saw that they'd seen him, he straightened and walked over.

He extended a hand for one of the two bags Jolee was carrying. Jolee handed it to him without comment. "I…uh…I wasn't expecting this many of you," Dustil said. "You're Jolee," he said to the same. "Nice to finally be able to say hello. It's been a while since Korriban."

"That it has, sonny, that it has," Jolee said.

Dustil jerked his head at Aytchkay. "He wasn't with you back then, but I saw him on the broadcasts. HK-47, isn't it?"

"Statement: Indeed. It is most pleasing to be recognized. You are the meatbag Dustil Onasi."

"Meatbag?" Dustil said, laughing a little.

Mission snorted. "Ignore him. He does that, you know? I'm Mission Vao, Dustil. It's great to meet you finally. I've heard a lot about you."

Dustil looked carefully at Mission. "Father told me about you, too," he said. "I'm sorry about Taris. It must've been awful."

Mission held his gaze. "No worse than here," she replied. "And you'd know all about that, right? But we're going to fix this place up."

"You are, are you? You're staying? All of you?" His eyes left Mission then, and drifted over to Aithne, and then to Carth. There were questions there, and a challenge, but behind them all was an incredible hope.

Carth caught it. "We're staying, Dustil. All of us."

Dustil's eyes flicked to Aithne. "Of course. Your sentence. You have to rebuild worlds the Sith destroyed. And where better than Telos?" His mouth quirked. "Well. There's more than enough work to do, I'll tell you that much."

"I can see that," Jolee said thoughtfully.

Aithne saw what he meant. Dustil definitely wasn't rolling out the red carpet. His aura was swirling with confusion, anger, and doubt, but even as she watched his mouth quirked up. "So. You saved the galaxy, huh? You brought down Malak. You crushed the Sith. Guess I'd better thank you for getting me out of the ranks. And now you're back here."

Aithne regarded him. There was humor in Dustil's gaze, and she suddenly smiled. "Dustil Onasi, I'm glad to see you again," she informed him. "And I think you're glad to see us, no matter what you say."

Dustil frowned and looked away, and adjusted the bag on his back. "You know," he said after a moment. "I think I am. Hmm." Then he looked at Aithne and his eyes began to dance. "For sure things are going to get a lot more interesting around here now my Lady of the Sith has come to stay," he jibed. He bowed mockingly, but Aithne could see he meant no harm by it, so she curtsied back to him. Mission laughed.

"They sure are," she said. "Your dad's as boring as can be, but me 'n' Aithne will shake things up around here good. You can help, Dustil!"

Dustil shook his head, smiling. "You know, you being Revan?" he said, speaking to Aithne still. "It makes sense, somehow, incredible as it seems."

Aithne looked at him thoughtfully. "That's almost exactly what I said." It made her a little sad, that Dustil didn't think it beyond her, but Carth caught her thoughts and grabbed her hand.

Dustil blinked. "It worked out, then?" he asked his father lightly. He didn't look angry. But he did look a little sad, Aithne thought, and a little lonely, too.

Carth nodded slowly. "It did, Dustil. C'mon, though. We're blocking up the hallway. Do you know a place we can talk? There's a lot of things we should discuss."

"I'll say," Jolee seconded.

Dustil nodded. "I'll take you around to my place," he said. "You can drop your stuff off there, for now. Then we'll go get something to eat at the cantina. I'll introduce you all to Yooba and Geri."

They followed Dustil through the Telosian lunar settlement, and the people bustled around them with the orders and instructions for the construction of Citadel Station, where Carth and Aithne would play vital roles in the reconstruction of the planetary surface. The lunar settlement was a ramshackle, temporary-type place. It wasn't too fancy, or even too comfortable. It would take years to transform it into a home.

As Carth, Aithne, Dustil, Mission, HK-47, and Dustil's future master Jolee Bindo walked through the settlement, all of them knew they weren't walking into paradise, or into some type of happily-ever-after. Just hammering out the issues among the six of them would take months. But there was good work to be done, and friends to make. There was family. And with the Force ever-present, they had embarked upon a good start.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: If you're wondering about the change, I've removed the epilogue of this story to make it flow into my **_**Defining the Jedi**_** continuity. For anyone that wants the happy ending five years early, I've reposted the epilogue as a one-shot AU to my AU. **

**Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, and favorited this story. You've been a huge encouragement. To those of you that liked my story before; I hope you think I've made an improvement. I hope I did. To those of you that never knew me before, thanks for coming along for the ride. I hope I've given you a little entertainment, at least.**

**God Bless, **

**LMSharp**


	49. On the Sequel

**An Author's Announcement: **

**I don't write in contests. I don't participate in online group writing challenges. I don't particularly care for being judged and controlled, and plus, deadlines are such a bother (understatement: I think they are demons specifically created to torment absent-minded types like me). But I've never, ever, ever been able to resist a personal challenge or dare. …Unless it's given with the aim of exploiting that particular personality quirk and manipulating me, in which case my native contrariness obligates me to refuse. **_**Anyway. **_

**When I was first writing my AU novelization of _Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic_, one of my reviewers, Razor T McCutchn said that they'd like to see me try to write its sequel. ****At the time, I replied that I had no intention of doing so. While I'd played the game, I didn't own it, and I didn't particularly like the storyline. There are inconsistencies. Questions that aren't ever answered. **

**And as a whole, **_**The Sith Lords**_** leans too much on Revan, and her (yes, I don't _care_ about the strategy guide or the EU novel, Revan was a woman!) big reasons behind her "fall" to the Dark Side, and her continued heroism decades into her life. I've mentioned before- I think one of the major weaknesses of the Star Wars universe is its insistence that its heroes go on hero-ing. It doesn't work like that. People fight in one war. They die, or they live, and if they live, they cope with their scars and move on. Revan is amazing, but I think she deserved that. And also, I think to say that the Sith Lords were just too big and bad for Revan is to belittle her fall, and to say that she "fell" and invaded the Republic to save the galaxy from the True Sith (as some do say), and went back to the Unknown Regions to fight the True Sith threat after the Jedi Civil War (as is indisputable from TSL) is to make her too big, too unbelievable of a heroine, and incapable of becoming corrupted by her power, intoxicated with her arrogance, and contemptuous of the weak Republic and the do-nothing Jedi Order. **

**I fixed that in **_**The Edge of Light and Dark. **_**I wrote the True Sith out of existence. My Revan fell, got her mind wiped, set her head on straight and fixed the mess she'd made. And sue me, she got a semi-realistic, happy ending. And when Razor T McCutchn asked about a sequel, I knew I was going to write the story that way. So I replied that no, I didn't think I'd be writing **_**The Sith Lords**_**. I like my prequels to leave actual room for a sequel. But then, God help me, Razor T McCutchn messaged me back and used the word "challenge". **

**My brain fired up immediately. How **_**would**_** I address the problems in **_**The Sith Lords**_**? How **_**could **_**I connect the two games? How could I answer the unanswered questions in a way that satisfied me? These questions, and others, lurked in the back of my mind for weeks, and then, a few days before I finished **_**The Edge of Light and Dark**_**, an Exile character sprang into my head. And it was all over. She's actually in the epilogue. Darden Leona. Named after a town in the Green Rider series by the remarkable Kristen Britain, and a lion. I don't know why, but it fit her. And she worked her way into my AU universe where she definitely didn't belong, and did what she starts in TSL. She rebuilt the Jedi Order. **

**Well, I thought, **_**that**_** wouldn't work. So I got the game. And I started to play it. And yes, the problems were still there. But amidst the **_**unreality **_**of the Revan frame, I found myself struck by the **_**reality **_**of the pain in the Exile's backstory. The brutality that Revan is supposed to have displayed in the Mandalorian Wars the Exile actually enacted. But she's actually a very peaceful person. The guilt Revan was able to forget haunts the Exile every day. And she never rests. She drifts from planet to planet, never finding home, and, when she finally returns five years after the Jedi Civil War, **_**hunted **_**by just about everyone for being the last of an Order she doesn't belong to anymore. All her friends are dead. All her kind is dead. And all her allies, to some extent, are untrustworthy. Yet she trusts them, and running a million light-years a minute, still manages to make sense out of nonsense, restart the Jedi Order, triumph over evil, and, most of all, to make peace with herself. **

**I thought, there **_**is**_** a story I can write here. But it turned out to be much more difficult than I'd anticipated, and to take a much longer time to take time out of my rapidly changing life to write a very different story. I have now been working on the KotOR II novelization on and off for two years. **

**So if you were a fan of _Edge of Light and Dark_, or perhaps if you still are, I'd like to invite you over to my new story _Defining the Jedi, _a sequel. Postings are every Monday and Thursday while I'm 30 chapters ahead of you all. If I come up with block at the end of the story and can't work it out in time, I'll slow the schedule to once a week until I can. **

**You'll find I've changed the AU semi-realistic, happy ending of _Edge of Light and Dark_ so the happily ever after is not quite so certain. After all, Aithne has undergone some serious trauma, and perhaps more traumatically, she's forgotten all about it. That's not something you bounce back from in a day, and unfortunately for the people that love her, Aithne didn't. She spent a little over a year with Carth, tormented by foggy, half-memories always out of focus, cognizant of some terrible threat of she knew not what, and desperately trying to live as 'Aithne' under Revan's shadow. And then she left, to seek out the threat she couldn't remember, and under the mistaken belief that it would give her loved ones some room to breathe, away from the ambiguity of her reputation. **

**_Defining the Jedi_ takes up the tale five years later, a year after the events of KotOR II. Darden Leona has finally found Revan, and she endeavors to explain to her what she has done and learned. You will find the True Sith are still gone. I still don't like them, and I still think Revan needs to give up heroics and get on with her life. This changes KotOR II's storyline in some places. I hope you will still find Defining the Jedi worth a read.**

**If you don't, though, or if you liked the original ending, I've posted this story's original epilogue as a one shot. You can find it on my page, along with _Defining the Jedi_. **

**As ever, May the Force be with You,**

**LMSharp **


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